


Seasons of love

by GaneWhoo



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Artist Kara Danvers, F/F, Fluff, Greece, Kinda slow burn I guess, Love, No power AU, Paris (City), Rating will go up, happy endind (Yes I solemnly swear there will be a happy ending), mamma mia! vibes, season au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19747096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaneWhoo/pseuds/GaneWhoo
Summary: This is the story of Kara Danvers, a bohemian artist living in the very heart of Paris, and Cat Grant, the powerful CEO of a multimedia conglomerate based in National City.As the seasons go by, their love will grow and then crumble, for spring smells like blossoming hope and certainty while autumn echoes with the melancholic sadness of goodbyes.---Or, the Supercat Seasons AUnobodyasked for





	1. SPRING

**Author's Note:**

  * For [racheltuckerrr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/racheltuckerrr/gifts).



**SPRING**

“Or maybe spring is the season of love and fall the season of mad lust. Spring for flirting but fall for the untamed delicious wild thing.”

Elizabeth Cohen - _The Hypothetical Girl_

\---

Kara loves Paris.

People often ask her why she likes this city so much and each time, the answer is different.

She says it’s how the air can smell like adventure and endless wonder one day, and the next it will be all about how the rain makes a soothing sound when it falls on the black tile of the rooftops and depending on the hour of the day, the day of the week or the month of the year even, it is something else entirely.  
She once told her family she was in love with the constant and peaceful flow of the Seine, she went into the details of a surprisingly poetic description of how the Canal Saint-Martin is the very soul of the French capital but then again, she said the same thing about the Saint-Louis island and its famous monument, Notre-Dame de Paris.  
She can talk about the Sacré-Coeur for hours but she is also very loyal to the various castles that can be found around the capital’s limit.  
She loves the Louvre just like about anybody else but she prefers the small streets no one knows like she does, the ones that smells like fresh baked viennoiseries when the first lights of dawn are still hours away. 

_Kara loves Paris._

The day is pleasantly warm for the end of May and she’s lazily cycling along the side of the Seine, enjoying the first real sun beams as they directly touch the naked skin of her shoulders and arms, and her face as well.  
The air is sweet and soft, tainted with this indescribable smell of warm stone, blossoming trees and water and it almost feels like summer is just around the corner but she knows better, after almost ten years in the city of light and love. She knows that the little clouds, discarded high in the perfectly azure sky can become big, gray and heavy in a night and it could be raining tomorrow, with that kind of dense drizzle that soaks in every piece of clothing despite the fact there is no real drop falling from above. 

People are strolling along the paved stone, wearing light tops and big sunglasses and their faces are lit up with that special smile she had come to associate with spring. Children are still wearing jackets and sweaters but it’s colorful and hopeful and she loves how their laughter echoes around in the air, like the eternal promise of innocence. 

She stops next to a deserted bench, carved right into the stone and caught in between two huge plane trees that extend their thick branches all around and provide a cool but not unpleasant shade. She places her bike against the end of the bench and sits down with a soft sigh, a new smile gracing her lips at the sight unfolding in front of her. 

In the middle of the sparkling river, the back of Saint-Louis island is splitting the waters in two and the noble silhouette of Notre-Dame looks like the proclaimed lighthouse for the touristy boats that gently maneuver towards the right path. The sunlight is postcard worthy and Kara thinks there would be no need for adjustments such as contrast and luminosity. 

She is entranced by the reflection of the small clouds flying across the bright blue sky in the troubled waters of the Seine when she hears a voice next to her. 

“Bonjour, est-ce que je peux m'asseoir ici?”

She still has her eyes glued to the gentle waves rippling across the surface of the river but already, she recognizes the not so foreign accent hidden beneath the surprisingly articulated French words.

When she finally brings herself to look away from the Seine, she falls into a pair of bright blue eyes that remind her of her own, the ones she meets every morning in the mirror. There is a young boy standing next to the bench, with dark blond curls framing soft features and a shy but hopeful smile.  
He looks very young and yet very old, she notices, as if an ancient and wise soul was somehow caught in a child’s body. 

“Avec plaisir, jeune homme,” she answers with a smile of her own and he hops on the bench without asking again, apparently relieved. 

She stays silent but from the corner of her eyes, she studies him. He’s wearing a pair of what seems to be brand new burgundy Converses, his denim blue jeans breaking perfectly above his heels as he sits down and the sweater, dark gray with no pattern whatsoever, is open on a T-shirt that shows a DC comics logo. She doesn’t know what to make of him, of his gentle features and his small smile but she has a feeling he is trying to say something. Nothing betrays him, not really, but she can practically hear the wheels in his head, turn and turn and turn around and she almost aches for him. She remembers the American accent she heard in his perfect French and she wonders if he is trying to find his words in Moliere’s language instead of going for his mother tongue. 

She waits but when nothing comes, she takes the lead.

“I couldn’t help but notice your accent, young man. You can speak to me in English, if it is more comfortable for you,” She offers and the wide smile of relief on his lips lets her know it was the right thing to say. 

“Oh, thank you! I am not yet fluent in French and I was trying to form a sentence in my head …” He says and she finds herself a little charmed by his clear diction, by how his words are calm but alive. His English reminds her of another life, one that ended a long time ago when she crossed the ocean to come live in France. 

She can’t, for the life of her, figure out how old he is. He sounds grounded and calm and she doesn’t see any of the exuberance one would expect in a child’s attitude. 

“I am sorry to bother you, Miss, but my mother and I got separated about half an hour ago and I’ve tried but I can’t find her. I didn’t want to approach anyone else here because …” He trails off, shyly, and she guesses he’s scared of talking to strangers. 

“I get it, people are scary, especially in a foreign country, and your mother probably told you to not talk to strangers, didn’t she?” Kara smiles and he smiles back, relief written all over his face now and his blue eyes, caught in the indirect gleam of a sunbeam, sparkle. 

“Yes, exactly. Would you mind calling her for me? Please?” He is polite and so well behaved, she wonders how scared he truly is underneath this facade. She thinks he is approaching twelve but maybe she is entirely wrong and he is in fact even older. She can’t get a clear opinion. 

“Of course, here is my phone,” She grabs the device in the front pocket of her backpack and hands it to him. He looks a little surprised but he takes it anyway and start typing a number. 

She glances, almost involuntarily and then explains “You need to type the + sign in front of the number, if you are calling an American one. Otherwise it won’t work.”

He adds the sign and then calls. 

He mouths a thank you and she just smiles at him, but then, he focuses on the line as someone is answering the call. She doesn’t even need to strain her ear to hear the panic in the woman’s voice, it’s loud enough to spill from the phone, against the boy’s cheek. 

“Mom, mom calm down, I’m safe and I am with a very nice woman, I’m calling from her phone. I am sorry I got carried away and I didn’t realize you weren’t here anymore until it was too late, I’m sorry mom,” the boy says and Kara thinks he must be an only child, to be so mature and so calm under such stressful circumstances. 

“I don’t know mom, I’m like, facing the Seine and I can see the island, with Notre-Dame … Where are you?” The boy sounds a little unsure this time and Kara gently extends a hand for him to give her the phone.

“Here, let me try to explain to her how to get to you,” she offers and the young boy nods before talking to his mother.

“Mom, I’m giving the phone back to the lady, she says she is going to give you directions to find me.”

He listens as his mother says something and then he gives her the phone and she brings it to her right ear.

“Hello ma’am, my name is Kara Danvers and I’m with your son, next to the bridge called Le pont de l’archevêché. The autonomous port of Paris is a little farther down from where we are. There is a bench, caught between two huge trees and we will wait for you here. Do you know where you are?” She asks and there is a beat at the end of the line.  
She hears breathing, shallow and hard, hitched. She doesn’t need to ask to understand that the person on the other end of the line is having a panic attack.  
She glances at the boy and she can see the worry blossom in his eyes, blurring the brightness of the blue shades. She doesn’t want to alarm him but she can’t leave the woman to struggle alone with her panic so she settles a little more comfortably on the bench and starts talking again.

“I’m going to talk to you ma’am, if it’s alright with you. I can hear the sound of people around you, as well as the soft noise of some waves hitting the pavement on the side of the Seine. My guess is that you are already on the right path. There is a boat, slowly passing underneath the bridge, can you see it?” She asks and a low hm answers her, she takes this as a yes. “Perfect, now you walk in the direction the boat came from, alright? You’re not far away, your son and I are waiting for you right after the bridge, on your left. Ma’am, can you see the leaves of the plane trees, on the other side of the bridge? We’re right underneath.”

She keeps talking and she is careful to sound as soft and gentle as she can. The young boy is watching her and he doesn’t say anything but he listens to her, she can see the worry fade away in his irises. She keeps soothing both the mother and the son until finally, a voice echoes in the air, one Kara hears in the phone as well.

She looks up and, sure enough, there is a woman running towards them, already reaching for her son with both hands.  
She notices, briefly, the sleeveless summer dress, made of a navy blue rich and deep fabric that flows below her waist but stops above her knees. She absentmindedly thinks the tan on the woman’s arms and legs is too strong to be imputed to the European weather.  
The boy next to her stands up and launches himself forward to meet his mother halfway and Kara stays still as she watches the emotionally loaded reunion.

From her spot on the bench, she doesn’t see the woman very well but she notices the iron tight grip of the fingers entangled in the fabric of the boy’s sweater and the blond waves spilled all over his shoulder. The woman is burying her face in her son’s shoulder and Kara notices the spasms agitating her body from time to time. She kindly looks away when she realizes what it is.

She looks at her phone for a second and notices a call from her sister, that had occurred way before her encounter with the boy. She makes a mental note to call Alex later and then puts the device away, back into her bag.  
She doesn’t want to look again, for fear of witnessing the tears of a woman who thought she had lost her son. 

“Hello Kara, I realize I didn’t tell you my name. I’m Carter Grant and I am enchanted to meet you,” the boy speaks and she finally looks up from her backpack to fall into those almost too familiar blue eyes. His smile is more at ease, relaxed and genuine this time and she is able to spot all the differences. She’s still a little impressed by how articulate he is, but she thinks she can get used to it.

“Nice to meet you as well, Carter. I am glad you found your mother,” she answers and then, said mother comes to a stop next to the young boy. Kara looks up to be able to meet her eyes.

The sun, already falling lower in the sky despite the still early hour of the afternoon, is forming a golden halo of light around the woman’s hair and it sparkles, it glows and gleams whenever the soft breeze troubles the blond waves. She’s not particularly tall but her presence is impressive, she fills the open space with every fiber of her strangely powerful aura. She smiles and her lips look soft and yet sharp at once, defined but somehow evasive also and Kara briefly thinks of the word paradox.  
With the sun shining behind the regally dressed silhouette, Kara can’t see the color of Carter’s mother’s eyes.

“Miss … Danvers, is it? Thank you so much for taking care of Carter. I thought …” She trails off and Kara instantly smiles as she stands up.

“Carter is a very bright young man ma’am, he was the one to approach me and to politely ask for my phone. I admit, I was, I still am, very impressed by how calmly he handled the situation,” she says and now that the sun isn’t defining the edges of the woman’s silhouette anymore, she notices the bright hazel eyes, lit up with golden freckles. 

Carter’s mother is, in fact, rather small. Kara only notices how small she is once she is standing up in front of the woman. She extends a hand politely as she introduces herself once more. 

“Please, call me Kara and despite the circumstances, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The woman takes her hand and Kara is surprised by how soft her fingers are. Still, the handshake is very firm and she can practically guess by the amount of strength used that the woman is used to being in charge, to have power and to use it. 

“Cat Grant, and the pleasure is all mine. If you don’t mind me asking, where are you from? I can hear traces of an American accent beneath your French diction,” the woman asks and Kara smiles.  
She knows for a fact she never truly managed to get rid of her American accent, even though she had heard multiple times that her English could pass for a second language learned in school, given how very French it sounded. 

“I grew up in Midvale, in the US, but that was a long time ago,” she replies and the woman arches a perfectly sculpted brow. Kara can tell she wants to ask more questions but she seems to reign over her curiosity because the next words are not an interrogation.

“I don’t know how to thank you for today. Would you … like to come have a coffee with us, perhaps?” There is a hopeful gleam in the woman’s hazel eyes and it makes the golden stars shine even more brightly.  
Kara is about to decline the offer when Carter’s voice chimes in. 

“Please say yes?”

The surprise in Cat’s eyes probably matches the one written across her own features as she meets Carter’s eyes. He smiles at her and then continues “I am really thankful for today, Kara. The other people … They were scary. You are nice and you helped me. Us.” 

He gestures to his mother as he speaks and Kara glances up again to search the woman’s eyes, a little unsure.

“I insist,” Cat says and Kara wonders if anyone ever refused that woman anything before, because she exudes power and authority in a way that would normally make her skin crawl. Yet today, she finds that she actually likes the aura. 

Maybe it’s because it is tempered with a grateful and hopeful smile.

“Well, I don’t want to intrude ...” Kara tries but Carter cuts her off. 

“You wouldn’t, we are inviting you.”

She narrows her eyes at him and takes in the amused sparkle in his eyes, something suspectively close to cockyness. 

“Very well then,” She accepts and she simply moves to grab her bike, starting to push it next to her as she walks towards the bridge. 

“So, tell me, are you here to visit the capital or are you simply passing through?” Kara inquires and Cat opens her mouth to answer, but Carter beats her to it.

“Mom is here on a business trip, I’m only tagging along because I don’t have school and I love Paris,” he says and Kara nods, appreciatively. He is caught between her and his mother, as they lazily walk along the Seine and she tilts her head to the side.

“How old are you exactly, young man?” She finally asks, because it bothers her that she can’t seem to figure it out. He is so well-behaved, so articulated, both in French and in English and he sounds so mature and calm but at the same time, now that she actually observes him around his mother, he shows a little more of that attitude one would expect of a child. 

“I’m twelve and a few months,” he shrugs and she can sense he is expecting some kind of comment about his strangely old behavior. She narrows her eyes at him for a few seconds, but then she doesn’t say anything and focuses back on the paved path ahead of them.  
From the corner of her eyes, she can see Carter turns his head to look at his mother and she notices he looks a little surprised, unsure as well. Cat only smiles at him but doesn’t say anything.

“Where are we going mom?” Carter asks after a few minutes of companionable silence. Kara turns her head just in time to see the flicker of doubt shine across the golden sparkles in the woman’s eyes. She mentally ponders if she should step in with a suggestion or let Cat decide on the location of their coffee, but when Carter looks ready to push, she calls the shot.

“There is a café, in a small alley right next to Notre-Dame, it’s just across the river and the view is pretty nice,” Kara offers and while Carter is enthusiastically agreeing, Cat looks more like someone who would have preferred to have a solution ready. Still, she smiles and accepts the plan and so Kara gently guides them towards the steps leading up to the bridge.

Barely fifteen minutes later, Carter is digging in a bowl of ice-cream covered with whipped cream and chocolate syrup while Kara and Cat are sipping at, respectively, a cappuccino and an espresso.  
They are cramped around a small round table, at the far left of the terrace to have some sunlight but the rest of the café is shadowed by Notre-Dame. 

“So tell me, who are you, Kara Danvers?” Cat asks and Carter looks up from his well-negotiated ice-cream to hear the answer.  
Mother and son look very different, from the color of their eyes to the edges of their features but somehow, they also look alike in more ways than one. It’s subtle, Kara notices distractedly as she takes the time to savor her coffee. Some clearer shades of blond in Carter’s darker hair, the evasiveness of the lip lines, the delicate arc of their eyebrows and a general sense of familiarity that couldn’t possibly be explained with words.

“What do you want to know about me?” Kara usually hates when people answer with another question but for once, she finds it’s an appropriate situation to do so. She sees Carter plunge his spoon at the very bottom of his bowl but he doesn’t look at what he is doing, instead choosing to focus his attention on his mother.  
The afternoon sunlight is hitting Cat’s face from a rather low angle, and again, it makes her glow. The gold sparkles in her hazel green eyes are suddenly alive and floating around in her irises. She’s all sharp edges, a jutting chin, high cheekbones, lips pressed in a thin smile but the silky blond waves framing her features are softening them, delicately. 

“Well, for starters, what do you do for a living?” 

Cat’s voice is neither harsh or blunt but Kara hears the commanding inflexions that seem to haunt the woman’s voice. It betrays her position again, one of power.

“I’m what you may call an artist,” Kara answers after another sip of her cappuccino and she chuckles at how high Cat’s eyebrow is suddenly raising. “It’s cliché I know, but that’s who I am. I paint, I write, I play with wood and clay, sometimes stone too. I also like to spend a few nights a week in an old cabaret, I’m the pianist there. Not exactly what you were expecting, is it?”

She smirks again, amused by the woman’s reaction. Cat is staring, lips slightly parted and her green eyes a little wide, but Carter is the first one to react.  
“Whow, that’s so cool! Can we come one night, to see you play?” He looks at her with so much eagerness and hope, she feels oddly sad when she answers.

“Hm, I’m sorry young man but it’s not exactly an appropriate joint for two fine folks such as you and your mother,” She explains and he looks a little dejected.  
She doesn’t know why she feels the need to fix it, to bring back a smile on his face but before she could take the time to think, the words are out of her mouth. 

“However, if you and your mom are interested, you can always stop by my place before you leave the country and I’ll play some piano for you, how does that sound? You’ll see my art at the same time, if that’s something you want.”

Carter almost jumps out of his chair in excitement and Kara fumbles to catch the bowl full of ice-cream before it spills its content on the table. 

“Carter! Be careful!” Cat scowls at him, but he’s already hopping up and down on the paved street, buzzing with impatience. 

“Mom, mom, can we go? Can we go listen to Kara play?” He asks and there is a plea in his tone and too much hope in his eyes, Kara mentally prays for his mother to accept and to not break Carter’s enthusiasm.

“I don’t know sweetheart, I am not sure we'll have time to go,” Cat gently answers and she sounds a little sad, Kara hears it in the soft edge her voice holds. It’s subtle, but it’s there, like a sparkle of twisted hope.

“I tell you what, how about you drop by for dinner, is that manageable before you have to fly back across the ocean?” Kara offers and she sees Cat’s eyes become distant, thoughtful. She seems to be considering the invitation and Carter, still standing next to the table, is practically holding his breath while waiting for the verdict. 

“I think we can do that yes, how does Friday night sound for you Kara?” Cat finally says, a smile breaking across her lips that illuminates her whole face in a natural way. A ray of sun is hitting her hair and it glows again, in that typical warm way that is unique to the spring sunlight. 

Kara smiles, a little dreamily, and she says “It sounds perfect.”

“Then it’s a date!” Carter erupts, sitting back on his chair with a huge smile on his lips. 

Kara can’t help the faint blush that creeps along her neck to settle in her cheeks and she chooses to focus on the impressive spoonful of ice-cream Carter is trying to dig. When she decides it’s safe enough to look back at Cat, she notices there is a distinct shade of pink gathered on the woman’s cheekbones.

\---

**FRIDAY AFTERNOON**

“So, what are you going to cook for your date tonight?”

“I already told you, it’s not a date!” Kara groans, her voice lined with just a hint of annoyance. 

“Right, the kid … who literally used the term date when you and his mother finally settled on a day,” Alex’s sarcasm is crystal clear and it echoes in the painting studio.

“He’s barely twelve, he probably has no idea what it means …”

“From what you’ve told me about him, I highly doubt it,” Alex retorts and Kara has to admit she’s got a point. Despite his young age, Carter is indeed very mature and wise beyond his years. 

“Why are you even calling me?” Kara asks, standing up from her stool to go open a window. The heady smell of paint, varnish, stone dust and wood shavings is causing the start of a headache and she welcomes the fresh spring breeze that flows in the studio with a relieved sigh.

“Why, to tease you of course. You’ve been babbling about Cat Grant and her son for a week now, and today is the day so you bet I’m not going to miss the opportunity to make fun of you!” Alex replies, the fake sweetness of her tone offset by the evident mocking. 

They have this incredibly strong and healthy relationship, but sometimes, their sibling bond is put through the ring whenever Alex doesn’t understand the concept of boundaries or when Kara takes her sister for granted too much. It’s becoming a rare occurrence but still, Kara can’t help but feel very annoyed at Alex right now. 

“Before you start trying to get rid of me,” Alex starts speaking again and just like that, Kara smiles. “I was actually calling today to confirm that I will be in Paris next week. I’ll be staying over at Luce’s but what do you say we catch up over lunch, on Monday?”

Kara all but squeals in delight, happy to see her sister soon.  
They so rarely get to spend time together nowadays, since Alex is always sent to some mysterious location for months at a time. The older Danvers has been working for an American secret government agency for almost twelve years now and Kara never asks about it. She’s fairly certain she doesn’t want to know what her sister’s job actually is. 

“When do you arrive? I can come and get you at the airport if you want?”

“You can’t, since I won’t be landing in Paris …” The slight pause at the end of Alex’s words means she can’t reveal anything more. “However, I’ll arrive in your beloved city Saturday evening. I won’t be free until Sunday afternoon, but after that, I have the week off!” 

“A whole week?” Kara can’t hide her surprise. Whenever Alex manages to get some free time, it’s usually a weekend or a few days, three tops. 

“Luce asked. I’ve been away a lot recently so I figured I could ask for a few days off …” Alex explains and there’s a gentle softness in her voice.  
Kara has come to associate that special tone to Lucy, Alex’s girlfriend and Kara’s best friend. They’ve been together for almost six years now and it amazes Kara how they actually make it work. 

Lucy Lane is a hot-shot corporate lawyer who spent most of her childhood in Paris and since she loved the French capital so much, she decided to move in right after graduating from Harvard law. Kara met her nine years ago and the story of their first encounter is still a joke amongst them. Two years after that meeting, Kara had finally introduced her best friend to her sister, during one of Alex’s rare visits. It had taken them some time, a whole lot of drama and a very tough break-up for Alex but eventually, they ended up being a couple. 

“She must be thrilled! Are you guys going somewhere?” Kara asks, watching as the spring breeze softly ruffles through her drawings and paper paintings. She knows that whenever it’s possible for them, Alex and Lucy take off to another country. 

“We’re going away to a small village in the South of France this time. She works on Monday but we’re leaving as soon as she finishes work. So, lunch?” Alex eventually brings them back on track and Kara chuckles.

“Yes, lunch. I’ll try and wake up early enough to be ready for you,” Kara replies with a resigned sigh. It makes Alex laugh at the other end of the line.

“Right, I forgot you always have fun at your cabaret on Sunday night … Well, you’ll make an effort, won’t you?” Alex is clearly having fun and Kara knows she walked right into that trap. She’s not bothered though, she has the carefree life she’s always dreamed of. 

“For you, I will. Now, shoo, I have to tidy up the place and get ready for tonight. Also, to answer your question about the menu, I went with something I couldn’t mess up even if I wanted to. I have everything I need to make my mushrooms, white wine and parmesan risotto, a fine bottle of Côte-du-Rhône is decanting in a carafe and there’s a chocolate cake slowly cooling off in the oven. I have to actually make the Chantilly but it won’t take long.”

An impressed whistle echoes in her ear and Kara smiles, rather proud of her little effect.

“And this isn’t a date …” Alex sasses, clearly not believing it. 

“Alex …” Kara warns, not wanting to go back to this particular topic. 

“Right, right. Anyway, I gotta go, but I’ll call you tomorrow because I expect a full debrief,” Alex replies, mercifully steering away from the topic Kara wants to avoid. “I love you sis, talk to you soon. Bye!”

Kara doesn’t have time to reply because the beep in the line informs her Alex has already hung up. Bringing her phone in front of her face, she punches the red button to end the call. She notices a notification in the top of her screen and she absentmindedly clicks on it, before focusing when she sees Cat’s ID.

It’s a text and the signature tells her it’s actually from Carter, saying they’ll be here at 8. She’s quick to type her reply.

**Oh really? Do you even have my address?**

The three little dots she sees under her message make her smile as she imagines Carter holding his mother’s phone while realizing his mistake.

**That is a good point, because as a matter of fact : we do not, mom says. Could you give it to us, please?**

Again, Kara marvels at how articulate and erudite the young boy is. She wonders if he has a superior IQ or something, because she’s certain no other twelve years old boy talks or writes like him. She types in her address, makes sure the corrector didn’t false anything like it usually does, and then presses send. 

Barely a full minute later, another text comes in.

**Montmartre uh. How … bohème, of you. You really do stick to the whole artist cliché, don’t you? By the way, I claimed my phone back so this is Cat writing.**

This gets an actual laugh from Kara and she takes a few seconds before writing her reply.

**You got me there, I’m a walking stereotype. By the way, are mushrooms okay with you both?**

The answer comes in right away.

**Mushrooms are fine yes. Carter is actually the least difficult child I know when it comes to food, something he didn’t get from me I can assure you.**

**Cat Grant, picky? Well, I would have never guessed …**

When no reply comes, Kara worries that her sass was a little too much. She hasn’t seen the woman since their impromptu first encounter along the Seine, but they have been texting a little ever since and it’s been both cordial and a little curious, with just a hint of playfulness. 

Her doubts are quickly assuaged when her phone vibrates again in her hands.

**My my, aren’t you brazen? It suits you. See you tonight, Kara.**

Kara smiles and there’s a warm feeling settling down her chest. It’s soft and a little fluffy, tender too. She realizes she hasn’t felt that way in a long while, and it suddenly annoys her. She’s more than familiar with the fragile sparkle of hope that lit up in her heart, one she can’t quite extinguish despite trying to convince herself that Cat Grant is straight and probably only indulging her son by coming here tonight.

She’s still lost in reproaching herself when her phone starts to vibrate.  
It takes her a moment to realize it’s in fact a call and not some texts. The picture displayed on the screen is one of a woman whose face almost disappears behind a pair of ridiculously huge sunglasses, sipping a colorful cocktail through a flashy red straw. Her hair is curling around her hidden features underneath the white summer hat and she’s smirking.

“Hi Luce!” Kara greets after having picked up. “You’re calling me early for a Friday, aren’t you still at work?”

“I am but your sister texted to say you have a date and I’m calling to yell at you because Alex knew before I did,” Lucy answers, very matter-of-factly. Kara groans through her smile, because as much as it sometimes annoys her that her sister and her best friend team up against her, she’s mostly happy for them. 

“It is NOT a date, and I already told Alex that. Several times, in fact ...” Kara retorts, moving around to close the windows this time. It’s getting cold in her studio and she’s only wearing a plaid shirt with a pair of panties, having not bothered with clothes since she woke up at 2 in the afternoon. 

“Don’t bullshit me, she says you’re making your famous risotto. I know you, Kara Danvers. You only cook Italian when you are interested in something from your date …” Lucy cuts her off, clearly not impressed. 

“Luce. Her twelve-year-old son will be there with us. It is NOT a date!” Kara insists and she glances at the vintage bronze clock that hangs in between the two windows that overlook Montmartre. Almost 6:30, she should really start getting the place ready to welcome the Grants. 

“Didn’t the kid use that specific term?” 

“Oh gosh. I hate Alex, must she really tell you everything?” Kara groans, knowing full-well that Alex and Lucy are a package deal now.

“Yes she must, because if I’m counting on you ... “

“Hey, that’s not even fair!” Kara protests, despite knowing it was only a mocking sentence. She’s a little sensitive when it comes to her friendship with Lucy.

“You’re right. So, when is she supposed to arrive?”

“Soon. In fact, I should start getting ready, I woke up after noon and I’ve been painting ever since …”

“Well, if you’re wearing your usual work attire, I don’t think your dear Cat will have a problem with it …” The smirk is audible in Lucy’s voice.

“Lucy! I already told you, Carter will be there and I’m pretty sure Cat doesn’t want me to parade half naked in front of her twelve-year-old son!” Kara exclaims, a blush instantly starting to color her cheeks at the very thought of it. 

“Right, right …Well I expect a full retelling tomorrow and I’ll be calling. Have fun on your date, Kara!”

“It is NOT …” The rest of the sentence gets lost in the echo of a laugh and then Lucy disconnects the call.

Kara curses under her breath before throwing her phone on the worn-out leather sofa pushed against the wall facing her current canvas. She lets her eyes wander around her studio, noticing a few paintings she should hide, along with some drawings and some stone and wooden sculptures. 

She figures Carter will want to come here to see her art and she’s not ready to explain why she paints, draws and sculpts so many nudes. The rest of her work is rather abstract, aside from a few portraits, a good number of landscapes and so many representations of the ocean. She’s messy and it shows, there are smudges of paint pretty much everywhere. On the wooden and chromed furniture, on the brown leather of the sofa and across some of the pots that hold the few plants meant to add a touch of green to an already colorful space.  
The light, coming through the three French windows that lead to the balcony overlooking Montmartre, is natural and soft in the fading daylight of May.  
Her more-than-large desk, atop of which an old Remington typewriter is sitting next to a colorful MacBook, is covered with pieces of paper. Some of them are from an actual manuscript, others are just snippets of text she writes whenever inspiration strikes, it’s random and doesn’t usually mean anything. A few notebooks are open amongst the mess, full of black ink notes and pen drawings. Faces emerge around the messy words, maps that can be seen after a few looks only, letters thrown on the page together that create a strange landscape. Kara approaches her desk and closes some of the notebooks, not wanting the Grants to read what’s inside. She doesn’t hide anything else around here, simply tying the notebooks close with their respective leather straps. She then puts them back into a bookshelf that already spills its contents on the floor and all around, books about colors, about poetry, about French history and a bunch of novels neighboring with other notebooks in various shapes and state of use. 

Kara spends another twenty minutes getting the place ready to welcome her upcoming visitors before moving onto her next task.

Half an hour later, the risotto is simmering on the stove and she’s removing her apron when her phone’s alarm rings across the room, practically drowning the sound of the Joe Hisaishi piece of music currently playing through her Sonos system. 

“Oh shit,” she swears, knowing the Grants would be there in less than half an hour. She suspects Cat Grant is a very punctual person and she’s still in her panties and plaid shirt, her hair gathered in a very messy bun atop her head. 

Moving around the kitchen island, she runs to the end of the loft and quickly climbs the stairs leading to the mezzanine. As she crosses the large and open bedroom spreading under the sloped roof, she undresses herself and finally jumps under the shower. It takes her barely ten minutes to wash herself and take care of her hair but as she dries herself, she wonders what she should wear.

Her huge in-wall dresser is full of colorful clothes of different styles and she’s torn between something casual and cliché, like a marinière and a denim blue-jean or something more sophisticated, like a pantsuit and a fitting white shirt with rolled sleeves. She is standing in front of the dresser when she hears her phone’s ringtone. Alex’s calling again, as if she had guessed her little sister’s dilemma.

“Alex!” Kara breathes as she picks up. “I don’t know what to wear, please help me?”

“Why do you think I’m calling you back, even though I’m supposed to board a helicopter in less than three minutes!?” Alex answers, and there’s a laugh in her voice despite the loud sound of propellers going off in the background.

“You’re a lifesaver, and I love you,” Kara replies before explaining her ideas “So, casual chic, marinière, jeans and bare feet or do I make an effort and go for the navy-blue pantsuit I like to wear whenever I’m supposed to be formal?”

“Oh, for the love of God. I swear I’m going to throw that suit to the fire one day. I know you love it but it’s so dull and bland! Come on. Pull out the white pants with the golden zippers at the bottom of the legs.” Alex all but orders and Kara doesn’t even argue. “Now, I know you have a light navy blue shirt, the one you wore last summer for Susan’s wedding party, there’s a golden zipper on the front, going from the collar to your cleavage. It’s not exactly casual, but it’s not too formal or elegant either and if you’re cold, you can top it with your black vest, with the satin lapels, or the grey pull-over, the one that looks and feels so soft.”

Kara considers the outfit spread on her bed and nods to herself, because Alex is right. She goes to find the pull-over, because she thinks the vest will be too much and the result pleases her even more. 

“Lifesaver, as I said. Thanks Alex! I’m gonna go dress now, they’re going to be here in less than ten minutes and I still have to dry my hair. Bye Alex!”

She hangs up before giving her sister a chance to make a snarky comment and then puts on all the clothes. She definitely likes how she looks and how comfortable she feels and she chooses to stay barefeet, because the wooden floor is still warm from all the sunlight it absorbed during the day. After another few minutes trying to dry her hair, she gives up and gathers it in a high ponytail, only letting some loose strands escape around her face. 

She’s barely back downstairs when her doorbell rings, letting a few piano notes echo in the loft. They’re right on time, she notices as she walks towards the door, glancing at the digits on her oven’s clock. 

She takes a deep breath and then reaches out for the button to open the door. She pauses when she hears Carter’s voice, muffled but still audible.

“Mom, will you relax? You’re exuding anxiety, I can literally feel it on my skin …”

Kara smiles at that. Not that she isn’t a little nervous as well but it’s mostly the fact Carter is using words like ‘exuding’ that she finds funny. She still can’t believe he is just over twelve years old. 

She doesn’t wait for Cat’s answer and presses the button. The door opens with a buzz and she widens it with a smile.

“The Grants, right on time!” 

Carter smiles widely at her, already stepping forward to hug her. She notices he’s wearing a perfectly ironed navy-blue shirt that matches his Converses, complete with black pants. The whole outfit almost seems too perfect.

She returns the hug with an affectionate chuckle, slightly surprised by the gesture. They only met once after all. When he lets go of her, she finally focuses on Cat.

_Oh._

Her mind goes blank and she’s suddenly unable to form any coherent thought. 

Cat is wearing a A-line, casual chic summer dress made of a silky bottle green fabric. Kara can’t help but to notice how it’s perfectly marrying her silhouette, from the v-neck to the waist, before getting loose to flow around the legs. She also sees that the dress stops a little above Cat’s knees. She’s wearing a pair of black stilettos, classic but elegant and it completes the whole outfit, matching the small leather purse hanging around her shoulder. 

She’s a vision and it’s breathtaking. 

“Good evening Kara,” Cat eventually greets her, an amused smile floating on her lips. Kara realizes she’s been standing here and staring for a little while now. She blushes and steps away to invite mother and son in.

“Good evening, please come on in! Dinner should be ready in a little while but I planned what us French people call un apéritif,” Kara explains as she closes the door behind Cat. She guides them to the living room, where a whole variety of appetizers are carefully displayed on the coffee table. 

“What would you like to drink? I have pretty much everything so hit me,” Kara offers, gesturing for Cat and Carter to sit down on one of the three couches that encircle the coffee table. Carter immediately starts to wander around with curiosity, admiring the paintings on the walls, the shelves of books and vinyls, the sculptures and the photographs. He eventually stops in front of the bay window and calls for his mother.

“Whoaaaa mom, come look!” 

Cat graciously stands up and joins her son, intrigued by the awe in his voice. She stops next to him and then lets out a surprised breath.

“Oh.”

Kara smiles and crosses the room to join them.  
The bay windows courses through the whole wall and overlooks almost all of the Paris rooftops. On the far left, the Sacré-Coeur is partly visible but the rest of the view shows the Eiffel tower, the dome of the Invalides, the high skyscrapers of La Défense and the various atypical roofs that sprinkle the city in this unique, inimitable way that only the Parisian architecture can pull of. The day is falling and the city is split into a blinding golden light and the shadows beneath, rapidly growing as the sun lowers. 

“I know, right? I will never get tired of this view,” Kara whispers, her heart warm with love. She’s traveled quite a lot, she went almost everywhere but there truly is no place like home and for her, home is Paris.

“It’s … breathtaking,” Carter whispers too. He sounds almost afraid of speaking out loud, as if it would break the moment. 

“It truly is,” Cat agrees, her voice soft and low as well.

They stand for a moment, watching as night slowly but surely claim Paris.  
Eventually though, Carter moves away from the bay windows and resumes his exploration of Kara’s loft. She smiles and lets him. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she opens up an app and presses a few commands. It turns on the light in various spots of the loft and she hears Carter whisper that it’s really cool. She winks at him. 

“Would you like something to drink?” Kara offers again, turning to face Cat. She’s met with gleaming hazel eyes and it takes away her ability to think once again. The green is intense and golden sparkles swirl around in it, it’s mesmerizing.

“Do you have any Scotch?”

Kara forces herself to look away, and nods.

“Yes, I do. My sister is very picky about her alcohol, she always bugs me about buying only the good stuff so that when she comes over, she knows she’ll have something to drink. How do you like yours?” 

“Neat, thank you.”

“Carter, buddy, want something to drink?” Kara asks, moving to the vinyl shelves to open the liquor cabinet underneath.

“Scotch, neat, thanks!” 

Kara stops in her tracks and looks at him, bewildered. He’s standing near the home-cinema system, looking very serious and there’s even a questioning sparkle in his blue eyes.

“Carter, stop bothering Kara. He’ll have a coke or any kind of sparkling soda you have,” Cat eventually intervenes and Carter’s face breaks into a very amused smirk. 

“Very funny,” Kara comments, shaking her head but smiling anyway.  
She didn’t see it coming but considering who was his mother, it wasn’t exactly a surprise. The Grants apparently had a knack for dry humor. 

She brings back a glass of Scotch to Cat before moving to the kitchen to grab a can of Coke for Carter. She checks on the risotto and pulls out the cake from the oven. It’s still too warm, so she decides to put it in the fridge for a little while.  
A few minutes later, she’s back in the living room.

“You have some impressive vinyls here, collector ones,” Cat greets her with a flourish of her hand toward the shelves, in front of which she is standing. She’s nursing her glass in the other hand and she looks a little more relaxed now. 

“I know, I’ve spent a long time looking for them,” Kara nods and walks up to Carter to give him his drink. He’s studying her movie collection with interest and absentmindedly thanks her when she carefully places the glass of coke in his hand. 

“Some French gems too,” Cat reaches out and carefully pulls out a black and white vinyl pocket. The woman on the cover seems to be either praying or begging, her hands crossed on her chest and her face raised to the light. 

“I’m actually impressed that you know this particular vinyl is collector,” Kara smiles, arching a brow.

“It has Edith Piaf’s handwritten signature in the bottom left corner and I know for a fact she only signed a dozen of those particulars vinyls.”

Kara doesn’t say anything but she gently extends her hand to take the vinyl from Cat. With careful, gentle movements, she pulls out the disk from its pocket and places it on the player. She delicately places the tonearm on the vinyl and then pushes a button.

The first notes of L’hymne à l’amour rise and Cat closes her eyes. Then the voice, strong and loaded with emotions, blooms into the room and it’s a perfect blend of love and sadness. The melancholy of the lyrics bleeds through the rolling r’s and lyrical vowels, and even Carter stops reviewing the movies to listen to the music.

The whole song plays out before Kara stops the music and she smiles as Cat opens her eyes again.

“Let’s eat, shall we?”

Cat nods and goes to sit on one of the couches. Carter still doesn’t join her. He disappears into another room and when Kara sees Cat’s frown, she reassures her.

“Don’t worry, he’s into my art studio. It’s fine.”

“If you’re sure …” Cat doesn’t seem entirely convinced. Kara only smiles in return.

Cat picks a carrot stick and carefully dips it into a creamy sauce before focusing on her host.

“So tell me about you, Kara. From Midvale to Paris, being an artist, living in a splendid loft at the heart of the French capital … What’s the story behind all of those achievements?” 

Kara laughs. Openly. The sound echoes around the room.

“I’m almost surprised it took you so long to ask. I mean, you are a journalist after all. At heart at least, since you are now the CEO of a media conglomerate.”

Cat raises a brow at that, before a smile comes to grace her lips.

“You’ve done your homework, I see.”

“I looked you up, yes. Impressive career, by the way,” Kara comments and she goes to pour herself a glass of gin. She comes back with the bottle of scotch and places it in front of Cat before sitting on the opposite couch.

“Thank you. Now, back to you. Who are you, Kara Danvers?”

“Am I supposed to believe you didn’t look me up as well?” Kara retorts, still not answering Cat’s question. She stares straight into the woman’s eyes, trying not to be distracted by the golden sparkles floating in the hazel irises.

“I did, but aside from your gallery, some of your paintings and an addendum saying you sometimes play in various cabarets in Paris, there’s not much about you online.” 

Cat sounds almost disappointed and Kara doesn’t bother hiding her amusement. She smirks.

“Alright. What do you want to know?”

“What made you leave America?” Cat shoots, not wasting any time.

Kara takes a few moments to gather her thoughts, sipping at her gin while doing so. Cat doesn’t push it, instead choosing to eat more fresh vegetables. Carter swings by, takes a few chips, tries the vegetables and a few sauces but when he notices the silence between the two women, he goes back to the studio.

“Well, it’s complicated.” Kara states, pausing for a second before resuming her story. “I grew up in Midvale, in a lovely typical house overlooking the ocean and I was happy. I was carefree, innocent and I loved it there, really. Some of my best memories are tied to this small little town and to the people living in it.”

Cat doesn’t interrupt, she’s listening closely. Kara sighs and takes another sip of her alcohol.

“I had just turned sixteen when my dad died in an accident. It’s cliché, but my whole life changed that day. I couldn’t stay in Midvale anymore. Everything, everyone was a reminder of him and I couldn’t bear it. I packed my suitcase, said goodbye and I left. I was an art student with a worldwide scholarship, which meant I could apply anywhere. I got on a plane to London, stayed there a few months, then went to Copenhagen. I think I stayed about three months there, made friends for life, and then I took off to Milano. You get the picture, I traveled a lot. I was about nineteen when I ended up in Paris, and I fell in love. With the city first, then with a girl.” She notices a sparkle of interest in the hazel green eyes but it’s gone too quickly for her to make anything of it, so she continues. “I wasn’t exactly planning on staying, despite the fact it was “love at first sight” with Paris. I mean, I had been on the road, so to speak, for so long … but I stayed. One year turned into two, then three … It’s going to be ten years in August.” 

Kara finishes her drink and then looks up to meet Cat’s eyes. They’re thoughtful but not sympathetic. She wonders if Cat is going to offer her condolances. She hopes not.

“Which makes you … twenty nine, right?”

Kara blinks, before automatically nodding. She wasn’t expecting that kind of response, but she’s pleased with it. No pity, no sympathetic “sorry for your loss”. Cat just absorbed the story and then moved on.

“You look … younger,” Cat says and it’s almost as she’s wondering out loud more than stating a fact. It makes Kara chuckles.

“So I’ve heard, yes. I take it as a compliment.”

“As you should. Now, your story doesn’t explain how you ended up in such a beautiful place.”

“You truly are a journalist,” Kara smirks and gets up to refill their drinks. She goes with gin and then pour a generous few fingers of scotch into Cat’s glass. 

“I’ve been lucky. I met the right people at the right moment, when I arrived in Paris. I made a name for myself, I built a reputation. Mostly in painting, but I sometimes play piano for some big concerts and it pays well. The writing also doesn’t hurt. That’s how I could afford to buy this place six years ago, along with a part of my inheritance.”

Cat nods, her hand gently toying with the glass of scotch, making the beverage swirl at the bottom.

“It’s a beautiful place, truly.”

“Want a tour? I see no reason why your son should be the only one wandering around,” Kara offers, already putting down her glass on the coffee table. 

“Well yes, thank you,” Cat accepts and rises up, following after her host and bringing the glass with her.

\---

“Is there even something you can’t do?” Carter wonders, clearly dumbfounded and obviously impressed.

“There are, in fact, a lot of things I can’t do, starting with solving mathematical problems,” Kara laughs, throwing a wink at the young man. “I’m terrible with plants, too. My best friend always brings new plants whenever she comes by, because she figures the previous ones are probably dead. She’s always right.”

“I’m not entirely convinced. I mean, you paint, you sculpt, you write, you play music, you cook … You have fantastic taste in music, in movies and in books …” 

“He has a point, you know,” Cat adds before putting a bite of chocolate cake in her mouth. 

From the moment she started eating dessert, Kara had been trying very hard not to stare. The way Cat played with her fork before bringing it to her mouth was downright sensual and the way she would close her lips around the piece of cake was even worse. Kara struggled just to focus, to speak.

“I’m only showing the best of myself tonight but reality is a whole other story,” Kara eventually replies, grabbing the water bottle and pouring herself a glass. She offers to fill Carter’s and he thanks her with a smile.

“I won’t believe it until I see it,” Cat shakes her head and Kara swallows, hard. 

Images of a life with Cat flash in front of her eyes and she chuckles, because it’s ridiculous. She doesn’t even know the woman and she’s fairly sure they’re not in the same pool, sexuality-wise. It’s stupid and she downs her water in one single move, as if trying to drown her fantasies with it.

“I guess you’ll have to keep in touch with me then, if you want me to prove you wrong,” Kara teases, meaning it as a joke more than anything, but Cat’s smirks doesn’t look too reassuring.

“Oh, I will. Don’t worry, I will,” Cat replies and it leaves Kara to wonder what it actually means. There is a mysterious light in the golden freckled eyes and it only serves to confuse her even more. 

“Right, uh,” Kara stammers before noticing Carter’s muffled yawn. He’s polite, he placed his hand in front of his mouth but she can see he’s tired. Glancing at the clock on the oven, she realizes it’s after midnight. Time flew so fast. Dinner had been a huge success, from a culinary point of view as well as the company perspective. Cat and her son had been playful, curious and interesting, it had been a true pleasure to have them over. Kara wishes the night would go on for a little longer but she knew she needed to be reasonable.

“Would you like something to drink, before you go? I can’t help but notice Carter seems exhausted,” Kara smiles and the boy doesn’t even deny it. Which, considering how hyperactive he could sometimes be, was telling.

“Nothing for me, thanks. Can I see your ocean paintings again before we go?” Carter asks and it surprises both his mother and Kara. 

“Hm, sure?” Kara hesitantly agrees, seeking Cat’s eyes to check it’s alright with her. The woman nods and Kara then stands up to guide the young boy to her painting studio. She hears Cat’s heels click against the hard wooden floor behind them.

Once in the room, Carter goes to the wall against which most of her ocean work is piled. He stifles through and pulls out a medium size canvas with a stormy sea landscape. It’s all grey, with shades of dark blues and some hints of black and it’s not her best work, in her opinion.

“It’s an old one, yeah. What do you like about it?” Kara asks, curious to know what caught Carter’s attention. 

“It’s … I don’t know. It’s like you painted feelings, I think …” He trails off and stares at the painting, leaving Kara speechless. She’s used to people critiquing and reviewing her work but to have a young boy, not even a teenager yet, make such an on-point comment about it is something else entirely. She can see Cat’s face, from where she stands, and from the parted lips and wide eyes, she figures it’s new to her as well. 

“I like the shades of blue in the black and grey world. Blue is for hope and the feeling of … being at peace with the world. I don’t know, it’s just a feeling I had when I saw the painting. I like it a lot.” 

Carter finally looks up and locks eyes with her. He’s not smiling and the depth of his personality is showing in the familiar blue of his irises. It takes Kara aback. When he looks down at the canvas again, Kara eventually regains her senses.

“Take it,” she offers and she smiles when she sees the surprise and hope on his face. “I mean it, I’d rather you keep it since you are actually able to enjoy it, since it speaks to you. It’s better off with you than here against my wall anyway.”

“Really?” Carter aks but he’s already hugging the painting against his chest, even if it’s a little larger than him. 

“Yes, it would be my pleasure.”

“Thank you, Kara. It’s a really cool gift!” Carter’s smile is wide and blinding, radiating joy. He looks like a real child here, younger and carefree, happy.

“Thank you, Kara. You didn’t have to,” Cat whispers and Kara nearly jumps out of her skin. She didn’t hear Cat come closer and it’s a little scary, given the noisy heels she’s wearing. 

“It truly is my pleasure, Miss Grant,” Kara replies with a smile. Cat’s features are incredibly soft, relaxed and open, it’s a change from the usually guarded and authoritarian attitude. She’s tenderly smiling at her son but her voice is amused when she speaks again.

“You can call me Cat, you know.”

“I know,” Kara replies. Cat frowns but doesn’t push and when Carter yawns again, loudly this time, they know their evening is coming to an end.

“I had a lovely time with you tonight, Kara,” Cat says as she walks back to the living room, followed by her son. He’s holding the painting very carefully, as if it was something precious that needed to be protected from the whole world.

“My pleasure, but you’ll have to come back another time because as time flew, I completely forgot to play some piano for you,” Kara laughs and Carter suddenly looks dejected. “Oh, don’t worry Carter. I promise you’ll hear me play one day.”

It doesn’t seem to make him feel better but he has the decency to stay quiet about it. Cat looks a little disappointed as well. 

“Are you guys gonna be alright to go back to wherever it is you are staying at?” 

“I already ordered a chauffeur, he’s waiting for us downstairs,” Cat replies and Kara arches an impressed brow. “What?”

“You have a chauffeur waiting for you in my street? How on earth did you manage this, no one ever drives in this block …”

“Well, my dear. I’m Cat Grant.”

Kara stares for a few seconds and then she laughs. She shouldn’t be surprised, she’s read some interesting tales about the CEO of CatCo. 

“Alright, Miss Grant. Then I hope I will see you again someday, and you too buddy!” Kara waves at Carter but he puts down the painting and comes to hug her again. This time, it lasts and Kara looks up to find Cat’s eyes, a little alarmed. The tenderness and affection showing on Cat’s soft features makes her pause. She’s caught off guard and she doesn’t exactly know how to react, so she goes for the easy way and hugs Carter back.

“You have my number, buddy. Mind the time zone difference but you can call me, or text me, whenever you want,” she whispers in his ear and when he lets go of her, the look in his eyes is relieved and grateful. He steps away, retrieves the painting and after one last look at Kara, he exits the loft. He doesn’t wait for his mother and starts climbing down the stairs, eager to find the comfort of the car.

“Thank you again Kara, for the invitation and for doing so well with Carter. He’s … special,” Cat explains and her voice breaks a little at the end. Kara sees the worry, the anxiety and the quiet terror in the hazel of Cat’s eyes. She’d seen it the first time they met, when Cat had thought she had lost her son, but this time it was more vicious. Kara didn’t have a kid and she couldn’t possibly imagine what it was like but she still sympathized with Cat’s fears. 

“He’s going to be alright, you know. I mean, I don’t know him nor you that well, but he’s got a great mother to lead the way, he’s gonna get through.” Kara offers with a gentle smile.

“Thank you,” Cat says and she looks slightly better. There’s a silence but then Cat opens her mouth again. 

“I … I would like to see you again, sometime.” 

Kara thinks she didn’t hear correctly. She blinks but the expectant and hopeful look in Cat’s green, so green, eyes, tells her it’s not a mistake. Scrambling to come up with a response, she eventually manages to speak again.

“I would love to as well, Miss Grant,” Kara replies, truthfully.  
It’s a fact, she would love to see Cat again and maybe start something, since now the possibility exists. She sees the beginning of a smile bloom on Cat’s lips and she hates herself for what she says next. ”But you live on the other side of the world and … Paris is my home. I don’t see how we could ... meet again.”

Cat’s shadow of a smile turns into a frown, but she’s quick to retort.

“I travel quite often. Can I … Can I at least call you, next time I’m in Paris?”

It’s not exactly a reassuring answer. Then again, Kara didn’t expect anything out of tonight, and now she’s met with hope. It’s weak and fragile, but it’s there. Still, she’s been hurt too many times in the past to just blindly jump into whatever this is shaping up to be. 

“Sure, you can call or text me whenever you want, Miss Grant,” she nods and the smile on Cat’s lips is soft and full of hope. 

Kara can’t help but stare and she doesn’t even register that Cat has stepped forward until suddenly, those lips are close to hers. So very close, she can feel Cat’s breath on hers. It smells like wood and spice, it’s heady and yet it’s so perfectly Cat. Everything feels familiar and new at once. Kara knows she should step back, avoid what seems to be unavoidable, but it’s so tempting.

Just when she’s about to close the distance, the sound of a loud and obnoxious ringtone makes them jump and they spring apart. Kara is blushing furiously and Cat’s cheeks are of a shady pink color as well, but she’s busy rummaging through her purse.

“It’s Carter, he must wonder what is taking me so long,” Cat says before answering.

“Yes Darling, I’m on my way,” Cat reassures her son and then hangs up. She looks sorry.

“I have to go …”

“I know. Have a safe trip back to the hotel,” Kara walks her to the start of the stairs and then moves closer to drop a kiss at the corner of Cat’s lips. As she steps back, she whispers into Cat’s ear “Until next time.”

After a wink and one last smile, she’s gone back into her loft.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Ok I know I promised an update on my multi-chapters fics and don't worry, I'm working on it. This is something that has been in my WIP for a long time, an idea first suggested by RachelTuckerrr ( _same name here and on tumblr_ ). Because Kara is such an Autumn Girl and I can't picture Cat as anything but Summer, despite what she would like us to believe.
> 
> So here you go. This will obviously features all seasons, aka four chapters. Thanks to RachelTuckerrr for being both my muse and my beta, and for providing the aesthetic to go with this first chapter ( _you can find it on my tumblr_ ).
> 
> I hope you liked it! Sorry for all the Frenchiness involved, btw!
> 
> _As always, reviews are nice_  
> 


	2. SUMMER (I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNING :** the chapter is rated E, because there's smut toward the end. Be aware.

Moonbeams softly bounce over the china-ink mediterranean sea.  
It creates a strange yet fascinating glow, one that trembles when it isn’t being sometimes swallowed by the quiet little waves that end either on the beach, with the gentle whisper of salted water against warm sand, or with a blunt splash, when they collide with the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs. The regularity of the sounds is soothing, peaceful. It echoes in the air like a familiar song, low and muted but comforting nonetheless.

The air is hot but not damp, despite the gentle breeze that sometimes brings sea sprays, and the night smells like this unmistakable blending of salt, bougainvillea flowers, olive oil, pine trees, fruits and the indescribable scent of warm stone and dust, some ghosts effluves of sunlight.

It truly feels like summer.

Kara smiles to herself, appreciatively.  
Her skin still exudes warmth from all the sunlight absorbed through the day and there’s sea salt tangled in her hair. She’s a little dizzy from the alcohol but mostly, she’s very high on the feeling of freedom that floats in the air. She feels light and carefree, it’s as if nothing can bring her down to the earth anymore, as if there isn’t any anchor anymore to ground her to any kind of reality.

She’s standing on the porch of the house she’s renting for the whole month, a typical three-floor greek house that had been renovated with taste but without altering the very soul of the place. She’d immediately fallen in love with the pictures displayed on the website but the reality was even better and she was seriously considering buying the house now, after only three days living in it.

The back of the house is directly overlooking the endless sea.  
A long flight of stairs, naturally carved into the cliff and located on the far right of the porch, allows a quick way to a private beach made of sand and rocks and with a little pier at the end of which a sailing boat is quietly swaying. On the left, coursing along the wooden deck bordering the overflowing swimming pool, a white stone stair goes down to a well maintained garden that is graciously marrying the slope of the ground to end up near the beach. It’s littered with fruit trees, mainly oranges, lemons and some dates, all bordered with flowers and some succulents. An old stone path goes through the trees and the flowers, slowly leading down to the beach.  
Everything is bathing in the moonglow and it looks a little like a fairytale landscape.

Kara itches to paint it.

Instead, she sips at her Champagne and watches as the moonbeams play hide and seek with the waves, reveling in the feeling of peace and freedom.

Suddenly, her phone goes off. The ringtone plays a distorted but recognizable version of the Imperial March, from Star Wars, and it makes her chuckle. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and instantly swipes her screen to pick up.

“Hey buddy!” she greets, her smile wide and soft.

“Hey Kara!” Carter replies. He sounds a little breathless and she wonders why.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, sorry I was running. Dad wanted us to race to the hotel and I won!” He sounds so proud, despite the fact he practically wheezed the last few words.

“Congrats buddy! Wait, how come you’re with your dad?” Kara asks, frowning. She walks over to the edge of the pool and bends down to put her glass on the wooden deck before lowering herself to the ground, dipping her legs into the water.

“It’s his turn to have me, for two weeks. I mean, I thought it was off because he had called to say he was supposed to go on a business trip but apparently, he canceled and came to pick me up instead, two days ago!” Carter’s excitement is genuine and she knows it’s because he rarely gets to spend time with his father.

“That’s so cool! So what are the plans for those two weeks?”

“First, we get to spend a few days in New York, he got us tickets for a bunch of cool Broadway shows! Tonight we’re going to see Wicked and I can’t wait! Then we’re off to Disneyworld for a long weekend and for the last week, we’re going to Barcelona and then Paris!”

Kara can’t help but to arch a surprised brow. It sounded like an exhausting program, especially for a twelve-year-old boy. Besides, she remembers Cat telling her that Christopher wasn’t exactly the father of the year.

“Whoaaa, you’re going to be a very busy young boy!” Kara chooses to reply, not wanting to rain on Carter’s parade. He was obviously very happy and she wouldn’t be the one to get his hopes down.

“Yes! Listen, I’ve been thinking,” Carter starts and she almost laughs at how serious he suddenly sounds. “Since I’ll be in Paris the last few days of my father’s turn, I was wondering if I could stay with you until mom gets there? She’s supposed to go to CatCo France around that time anyway and I’d rather spend time with you than to go back to National City to be babysat by my nanny while mom goes to France …”

Kara’s heart squeezes painfully in her chest. She would absolutely love to have Carter with her for a few days until Cat comes to pick him up but she knows it’s not even remotely possible. For a lot of reasons.

Biting back a sigh, she gathers her thoughts and then starts to answer.

“I would love to, Carter, truly. Sadly, that won’t be possible,” she can already hear him take a breath, as if he wanted to retort right away. “Hear me out, buddy. First, I am not in Paris at the moment and I won’t be for the next two months. Second, I’m fairly certain your mother wouldn’t let you stay with me. I mean, we’ve only met once and as such, and despite all the time we’ve talked over the phone, I’m still a stranger. Which, considering the circumstances of our first encounter ... it makes sense that she would refuse, don’t you think?”

She’s met with silence and she knows Carter is already sulking. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him that his mother and herself aren’t exactly talking at the moment.  
It’s not that they don’t want to, but the distance, the time zone difference, Cat being a CEO and Kara having a whole other rhythm of life make it impossible for them to coordinate their lives to make time for each other. June had been like a honeymoon, with long phone calls, many many texts and some Skype calls but then July started and with it, Carter’s summer break and Kara’s travels. The phone calls slowly reduced, until they disappeared and then one day, Kara didn’t receive any text. She figured Cat was busy, so she’d only sent one. She never got an answer and so she let it go. She’d always known it wouldn’t work, despite Cat’s insistence. It hurt, because Kara had believed in the possibility of something and now she was left with the bitter taste of the word almost.

“I miss you,” Carter eventually whispers, the words trembling and his voice cracking.

Oh.

She had been so carefree, light and happy, barely a few minutes ago. It only took three words from the young boy she had grown to love so very much, to bring her down. It isn’t his fault, she knows that but it still hurts.

“I miss you too buddy,” Kara replies and she feels her throat close with sadness, tears gathering in her eyes as she realizes she probably won’t ever see him again.

“I tell you what,” she shakes her head, her mind racing and already putting together an alternative to try to cheer him up “How about I give you my current address and you can send me postcards, or letters even? I’ll try to answer but since you’ll move around a lot, I’ll send everything to your house back home and you’ll get it when you come back.”

“You’d do that?” Carter asks, sounding unsure but also hopeful.

“Yeah, of course I would, I’m the one offering!”

“I … would love that! Where are you by the way? I can hear the faint sound of waves in the background …” Carter wonders and she’s impressed with his hearing, because the echo of the sea is muted and distant.

“I’m in Greece, on an island called Hydra,” Kara replies with a smile.

“That is so cool” he cheers, actual awe lining his tone. “It’s not one of the Cyclades tho, right? The name doesn’t ring any bells, aside from the Marvel universe villains organization Captain America tried to take down …”

The wonder never ceases, Kara thinks as she once again marvels at how smart and cultivate the young boy is.

“I knew you’d catch the Marvel reference!” she chuckles, before answering his question. “It’s not part of the Cyclades, no. It’s a small, car-free island at large of Athens, you can only access it by boat and there’s only one village really. It’s very pretty though, free of any civilization noise and surrounded by the sea. The village is what one can expect, with white painted houses piling up along stone paths bordered with flowers and fruit trees, and of course, there are typical greek blue doors and shutters everywhere.”

“Whoa, it sounds so pretty. Will you send me some pictures? Also, I have a pen and a paper, I’m ready for your address,” Carter offers and Kara gives him the exact lines he will need to put on any envelope he wants to send her.

“How long are you staying there?”

The question doesn’t seem so strange since they’re talking about exchanging letters, so Kara answers without thinking.

“A month, at the very least. I might sail around for a few weeks after that but I’m not even sure yet …”

“You know how to sail? I swear, every time I think I finally got to the bottom of your many, many talents, you manage to brandish new ones!”

Kara openly laughs at that, amused both by the compliment and the phrasing. He is so articulate, it truly is impressive.

“I’ve picked so many things up over all the years I’ve spent traveling around, you should give up on making that list you know.”

“Never,” Carter counters, stubbornly. “I’ll get to the end of it, although maybe I think I should switch strategy and write down all the things you don’t know how to do, it might be shorter …”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Kara replies with a soft smile. She knows she should end up the call right there, they’ve already spent too much time talking to each other and it’s probably unhealthy to encourage their strange relationship. “Alright buddy, it’s getting pretty late here and I’m about to go to bed. Have a great time with your father and enjoy Broadway! I look forward to your letters.”

“Thanks Kara, I’ll start writing one today before the show. Have fun in Greece and send me some pictures! Goodnight,” Carter reluctantly says and she doesn’t drag it out, only wishing him goodnight as well before hanging up.

She’s left with an inexplicable emptiness in her soul, as if a part of her had gone missing during the call. A violent wave of sadness washes over her, not unlike like the ones crashing on the beach, a few feet below her level.

She drowns the rest of her Champagne flute and then pours herself another one, fighting against the tears that threaten to flow down her face.

The moonglow suddenly seems incredibly melancholic to her and the sound of the sea feels like an endless melody of sorrow.

\---

**3 DAYS LATER**

“Relax, Alex, I’m actually having the time of my life here!”

“Right, all by yourself in a big-ass house with a pool and a beach and a boat … On an island in the middle of nowhere, with no car and no decent wi-fi ... Who are you trying to convince here, me or yourself?”

Kara has to bite down her lower lip to prevent the chuckle to get out. Her sister’s phrasing, while definitely ironic and sarcastic, is expressing some real concern and it warms her heart a little.

“Which is specifically why I chose that particular island, you know? No car, almost no internet, nothing but the sea and the locals …”

“Kara, I am well aware that you are living your best Mamma Mia fantasy right now but I don’t understand why you wanted to spend a whole month, maybe even longer, all by yourself. We usually do something together around this time of the year …”

“I know, Alex, but I needed some time alone, far from Paris and from …” she trails off and sighs. Alex doesn’t push, but Kara knows it’s on the tip of her sister’s tongue.

“So … the Mamma Mia fantasy is to run away from your feelings?” Alex sasses and Kara rolls her eyes. So maybe Alex is pushing after all.

“Are you jealous or something? You’ve mentioned Mamma Mia twice already and I’m not the one with an unhealthy crush on Amanda Seyfried, or Meryl Streep, or Cher …”

“Alright, alright, no need to mention the whole cast! Fine, yes, I am a little jealous because the pictures you sent are awesome and I’m really craving some sunshine but without the desert sand in my clothes and dry dust taste in my mouth.” Alex grumbles and Kara sympathizes, knowing her sister was stranded in some Middle Eastern country for an undetermined length of time.

“Still no word on when you will be able to leave your location?”

“None, and it’s driving me crazy, and Luce too,” Alex sounds genuinely heartbroken over the last part. Kara winces, knowing Alex’s job made it really difficult sometimes for her relationship to work and thrive.

“I’m sorry, Alex. I’ll tell you what, when you finally know when you can leave, why don’t you take a few days and bring Lucy here? I’d love to have you over and if you want some time alone, I can always go sailing around the island for a few days,” Kara offers, even though it hasn’t been part of her plans at all. She figures she can accommodate her plans to make room for her sister and her best friend, especially since she doesn’t have anything planned in the first place.

“Really? I mean … You’re seriously offering?” There’s hope in her sister’s voice.

“Of course not, I’m just cruel that way I guess …” Kara deadpans, before busting into a carefree laugh, not listening to her sister’s groans.

“Silly you, yes I’m seriously offering. Just let me know if you can pull it off and then get your sassy butt over here, so you can live YOUR Mamma Mia fantasy with Luce.”

“You are the best sister in the whole world, Kara,” Alex eventually says and it makes Kara feel a whole lot better than she has in the past few days. The truth is, the prospect of her sister and her best friend coming over was already improving her mood.

She’s about to say something smart and knowing when the doorbell rings across the whole house, startling her.

“Kara? Was that the bell? I thought you were alone in that forgotten island in the middle of nowhere?”

“I am!” Kara protests, having heard the slightly amused tone in her sister’s voice. She’s already walking through the house to get to the door when she replies “It’s probably a local, wanting something … My closest neighbor, who lives like 5 miles away, came by yesterday to offer me a jar of homemade honey. Maybe it’s her again?”

“Oh? Is she hot?”

Kara groans disgustingly, facepalming herself with her free hand.

“Ewwww she’s like, eighty or something!”

“That is blatant ageism, Kara” Alex teases in that matter-of-fact tone Kara has known since they were teenagers. She’s about to flip her sister when she pulls the door open and almost drops her phone when she sees who is standing in front of her.

Cat Grant, perched on some very out-of-place, bright red stilettos and wearing a fitting pair of denim white pants, a flowing, sleeveless blouse as bright as the shoes and a very large white hat that shadows her face as much as the sunglasses do, is surrounded by two suitcases and paired with the seemingly bottomless red purse hanging on her shoulder, she looks like she just came out of the page of a luxurious magazine.

She is so perfectly put together, her blond curls barely moving around her features and a hand nonchalantly resting on her hip, that Kara thinks she’s currently dreaming.

“Well, aren't you going to let me in?” The voice is clearly amused but Kara hears a tremor in it, some nerves showing around the question mark.

“Cat? I mean … how … what ... “ Kara stutters, unable to process what’s happening, her mind blank as she stares at the vision in front of her.

“Kara? Did you just say Cat?” Alex’s voice isn’t teasing anymore. It’s lined with anger and concern instead.

“Alex, I gotta go. I’ll call you back,” Kara eventually manages to say, not even looking at her phone as she repeatedly punches the screen where the red button is supposed to be. She still has the time to hear her sister protest and call her name a few times before they finally get disconnected.

Cat had removed her sunglasses but her eyes are still hidden in the shadow of the hat and it unnerves Kara, not to be able to look into the hazel green irises.

“Again, aren’t you going to let me in?”

“What are you doing here?” Kara retorts instantly, crossing her arms over her chest in a defiant and slightly protective gesture.

“I need to talk to you,” Cat eventually replies but it’s not as confident as her former bravado would let on and Kara can see the carefully put together attitude crumble a little. Still, Cat juts her chin and squares her shoulders.

“Right. You’re the CEO of a worldwide media conglomerate, I assume you know what a phone is and how to use it … although, I do wonder, since you didn’t seem to know how to respond to my last texts and avoided my phone calls entirely,” Kara counters and she’s angry, all of a sudden.  
She’s purposely ran away from her beloved loft in Paris to put some distance between herself and the disappointment of having gotten her hopes too high with Cat and the woman has the audacity to show up to her retreat, unannounced and with baggages.

“How did you even …” Kara starts again but the phone call she had with Carter a few nights ago flashes in her mind. She groans. “Right. Of course Carter told you.”

“He thought I could write you a postcard as well,” Cat nods with a soft, affectionate smile. It disappears quickly though, replaced by a sheepish expression. “I … Thank you, for not telling him about the state of our relationship. I think it would have broken his heart.”

Kara throws her a bewildered look, before shaking her head.

“You got some nerves, you know,” Kara states, anger flaring in her eyes and dripping from her tone. “I’ve tried to reach out, time and time again but you never bothered with an answer and I eventually got the message. You’re not interested, which is fine but you could have been an adult and pick up the phone to tell me instead of ghosting me. Then you thank me for not telling your son that you’ve kind of been an asshole to me, saying it would have hurt him ... “

This time, Cat does flinch. Kara still can’t see her eyes but she instinctively knows they’re filled with remorse and sadness. She sighs and steps aside, figuring that she could at least hear Cat out since the woman went to all the trouble of flying over from National City, or whatever city she had been doing business in lately, taking a boat to the island and then climbing up to the house, in those ridiculous shoes of hers.

Cat graciously enters the house and Kara grabs the suitcases, rolling them into the small foyer and placing them in a corner, next to a small table supporting a big green plant. She gestures for Cat to move on and she follows her into the main room of the ground floor.

“Oh,” Cat gasps and Kara can’t help but smile, because it’s the exact reaction she’d had when she entered the room for the first time.

The wall across the entrance is entirely made of glass and overlooking the pool and then the sea. Shades of blue are all that can be seen, everywhere.  
The room itself is massive and incredibly luminous, with a very modern kitchen occupying the right corner, a dining space somewhere in the middle and a living room taking all the space on the left, going a little deeper into the house next to the wall separating the foyer. The walls are made of a rich blending of apparent stone and bright white paint that is so typical of the Greek architecture and the floor is covered with big dim gray tiles for the kitchen and dining area. Two steps separate the previous spaces from the living room, putting the living room on another level.

The floor here is smooth like waxed concrete and of a lighter color than the tiles. A ridiculously big carpet, representing abstract white and blue shades, is thrown across the floor and supporting two cream colored couches facing one another across a grey wooden table. The cushions are blue too, a call back to the sea, the pool and the other shades of blue peppered across the whole house. Like the painting hanging on the white wall above a carved in the wall library, Cat notices, or the various pots hosting green plants dispersed through the place, some of them almost seeming to fall from the steps of typical white stairs pushed in the angle at the far end of the living room space, conveniently marrying the wall of the foyer to lead upstairs. An opening in the floor, right under the stairs leading up, showed roughly carved steps that seemed to go deep into the ground. There is also an impressive black Baldwin piano in the angle, littered with partitions and music books, facing the view.

Kara steps into the modern-looking American kitchen and opens a cupboard to grab a glass. She places it atop the kitchen island and then retrieves a cool bottle of water from the fridge.

“Drink that. You should also kick off your heels, they look really uncomfortable. I still can’t believe you climbed all the way up to the house in those, with your luggage,” Kara shakes her head while gesturing for Cat to take a stool at one end of the kitchen island. Cat does as she’s told. She discards her shoes and the hat, sits and finally gulps down the water in a matter of seconds, betraying her severe dehydration. Kara pulls out another bottle, hands it over to Cat and then sets off to make breakfast.

“The house is … It’s incredible,” Cat whispers and her eyes are gazing at the pool, almost longingly so.

“Yeah,” Kara nods but without adding anything. She opens the massive fridge and grabs a small bucket of greek yogurt, different kinds of jams, some eggs, a bottle of milk and a few oranges she’d put in there the previous day in order to make fresh juice.

Cat doesn’t say anything and Kara glances above her shoulder to make sure she’s still conscious. The woman seems lost in her contemplation and Kara decides to let her be. She figures Cat will talk once she’s ready.

She places two bowls down on the island, one near Cat and one in front of her. She adds two glasses and a few spoons before launching the coffee machine on her way to make orange juice. The kitchen is forming an L and the smaller side of the counter, on the far right of the room, is littered with fancy appliances. Kara loves to cook and she’d been more than pleased to discover how furbished the place is. She brings back a pitcher of freshly pressed orange juice before returning to the coffee machine. It’s the expensive kind of device that can be found in pretty much every small coffee places around the world.

“I can do any kind of latte or fancy drink you want, or would you prefer an espresso?”

Cat takes a second to answer but eventually, she asks for an espresso, so that’s what Kara gently places in front of her. She takes a seat on the other side of the counter island and starts making her breakfast. A few big spoons of yogurt, mixed up with fresh banana and some apple slices, a variety of almonds and nuts and finally, Kara litters it with homemade honey. She can sense that Cat is watching her but she doesn’t meet her eyes.

“This looks … healthy,” Cat musters and Kara doesn’t retort. She simply pushes the small bucket of yogurt towards the CEO. She’s enjoying her third spoon of breakfast when Cat starts speaking again.

“I owe you an apology.”

That gets Kara’s attention and she finally looks up. Cat’s features are open, she isn’t hiding behind the mask of her CEO persona, the one Kara had to face more than once. She looks sheepish, a little unsure but mostly determined, it sparkles in her hazel eyes.

“Hm,” Kara makes a noncommittal sound, waiting to see where this is going. She’s out of her depth here, Cat makes her feel nervous and she doesn’t know what to expect. She doesn’t want to expect anything at all, really, but the very presence of the woman she’s been running from is throwing her off balance.

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” Cat sighs. Kara arches an unimpressed brow and levels an equally unimpressed glare, one Cat takes for what it is. “You’re right. Why would you, after all? God knows I haven’t made anything easy, for anyone really, but especially not for you …”

Kara notices Cat’s hands, fidgeting with the spoon as she speaks. She stays silent and keeps eating, only glancing up at Cat from time to time.

“I … I don’t have any excuses. I got scared,” Cat says and her voice is softer, hesitant even. No trace of sarcasm or dry humor. Kara stares, but still doesn’t say anything. Cat Grant doesn’t strike her as the kind of woman who would be easily scared, of anything.

“You were … you were here. You picked up the phone, every time I called. You answered every single one of my text messages. You were … available, so free, so easy to talk to. I …” Cat trails off and Kara forces herself to keep still. Her heart is beating insanely fast in her chest but she doesn’t want Cat to see how troubling her words are. “I couldn’t give you any of this. I wasn’t … available. You said it before, I am the CEO of a worldwide media company and I’m always busy.”

Kara wants to point out that Cat sill is the CEO of CatCo, that this hasn’t changed. She wants to ask again what is it Cat wants, but she decides to let the woman keep talking.

“The thing is …” Cat takes a deep breath, steadying herself. It’s a little strange, to see someone so powerful needing to do something so human. “I was constantly thinking of you. Honestly, I couldn’t focus on anything. I had mutated into a lovesick schoolgirl and I was just … waiting for your calls, your texts, the skype sessions. Working has become something of a torture and you know, you know how much I love my company, my job, you know how important it is for me.”

Kara nods, almost absentmindedly, because her mind keeps playing the words lovesick schoolgirl on a loop and it’s hard to focus on anything else. The words coming out of Cat’s mouth are surreal, as if coming straight out of one of her dreams. She still thinks she’s dreaming, because there is no way Cat Grant, of all people, could have been that distracted by her, Kara Danvers, a Parisian artist with a very boheme life.

“I’ve kept all our texts, your voicemails, all the songs you’ve sent to me are gathered in a playlist, the pictures are in a file in my phone … I mean really Kara, a playlist. Do you know how old that makes me feel?” Cat chuckles but it’s filled with anxiety and nerves.

“Anyway. I had to … focus back on work, especially at the beginning of summer. Someone tried to pull a hostile takeover and … I didn’t see it coming. Because I was so focused on you, on us, I had let everything fly over my head and it came to bite me in the ass. I didn’t mean to cut you out entirely and I blame myself for the sudden distance I’ve put between us, I … I was heartbroken over it, and it’s so stupid because we’ve only met once, we didn’t even kiss and yet I had so much … hope, for us? I wanted us to last, to grow and to truly become something.”

Kara swallows against the lump in her throat. She suddenly feels lost. She has no idea as to what any of this means. Cat talks a big game, stirring all the feelings Kara had been running from in the first place but she also alternates between the past tense and the present and it’s confusing. Her mere presence in this kitchen doesn’t make any sense at all.

“I miss you,” Cat suddenly lets out and it’s rushed in one breath. Cat doesn’t meet Kara’s eyes. “I’ve been missing you since before your last text. You know, I had to turn off my phone for a few days, to stop myself from replying. I just … I wanted to call you, to apologize and to fly to Paris to be with you. That’s when I truly realized how far gone I was, for someone I had only met once and who is living a whole ocean away.”

Kara doesn’t even know what to think now. Cat’s words echo in her head, endlessly. She only realizes Cat’s waiting for her to say something when she doesn’t hear any sound aside from the faint and distant brush of the waves against the beach, coming through the open double doors in front of the kitchen island, the only break in the whole glass wall.

“You … do realize that … I still leave an ocean away? An ocean you apparently crossed on a whim because … you miss me? What does it even mean, Cat?” Kara’s frustration is starting to drip from her tone. “You came here, on a greek island in the middle of the sea, to tell me what exactly? Because …”

Kara shakes her head, trying to clear her mind, but it’s hard because she’s tired from too many feelings.

“I don’t understand. I only gathered that because I was driving you crazy and distracting you from work, you simply cut me out and yet, you talk about feelings, whatever they are, and you’re here now, but you could have … you know my address in Paris.”

It’s an accusation and Cat hears it exactly as it is.

“Why are you really here?”

This time around, Kara sounds tired. It’s not even 10am yet but already, she feels like going back to bed. Instead, she stands up and goes to find a bottle of vodka in the freezer. She pours a generous dose in her glass of orange juice, under Cat’s slightly worried gaze.

“What?” Kara groans, gulping half her glass before continuing. “Don’t look at me like this, you’re the one coming out of nowhere, on my holiday, dumping a big pile of emotional stuff on me. I wasn’t exactly ready to see you, if you haven’t noticed already. In fact, I was pretty sure I was never going to see you again.”

Cat’s face falls and hurt twists in her eyes. She looks like she’s about to protest, but goes against it.

“That’s … fair enough, I guess,” Cat admits but it doesn’t soothe Kara’s anger. It only makes things worse.

“You’ve got some nerves, I swear! I had doubts, from the very beginning, about this relationship. I mean, that’s almost the last thing I’ve said to you, at the end of that evening at my place. We’ve only met twice, the day Carter found me and the day I had both of you over for dinner,” Kara starts to pace in front of the kitchen island, holding her glass in one hand and gesturing with the other. “You were the one saying we could pull it off!”

At that, she finishes her drink and goes to make a new one. Cat only watches.

“You’ve gotten my hopes up and I didn’t want to. I’ve done it before, the long distance relationship, I knew the danger. Gosh, I was so cautious not to fall for you, to keep things casual, distant even, yet it still hurt so much when you stopped answering. You know what the worst part is? If you had told me, instead of cutting me off, I would have understood. Maybe we could have come up with a solution, a plan, a compromise …”

She’s exhausted. She stops pacing and looks at Cat, sees the clenched jaw and the blanched features.

“I thought … I thought maybe this time, I would find someone who’s better at communication. I mean, you are the CEO of a media conglomerate, your job is literally all about communication … and yet. Here we are,” Kara says and it comes out as a whisper, a little broken, still angry but also resigned.

“I’m …” Cat starts but Kara raises a hand, efficiently silencing her.

“I need some time alone. Just, make yourself at home and when I come back, we’ll pick this conversation back up.”

Cat looks like she’s about to protest, but she gets a pointed glare from Kara and closes her mouth. Kara places her now empty glass on the kitchen island, picks up her phone and exits the house through the double doors. She walks along the pool to get to the stairs on the right and makes her way to the beach, already calling her sister’s number.

\---

“So, I’m guessing you’re calling me because you need a second opinion on your situation,” Luce greets, after having picked up the phone after only two rings.

“How is it that Alex, who is stranded in the middle of literally nowhere, still finds a way to be the first to tell you about what happens in my life,” Kara groans but she’s relieved to hear her best friend’s voice. The call with her sister had been a true rollercoaster and she’s glad Luce picked up.

“That is a very good question sweetie, but let’s save it for another day. So, catch me up, your version. Alex isn’t exactly fond of Cat, I’m guessing she said something along the lines of ‘she’s too late, tell her to go back home and to never contact you again’ …”

Kara misses a beat, weirdly impressed by how accurate Lucy’s guess is.

“That’s … yeah, that’s pretty much what she said,” Kara whispers and her best friend laughs.

“Alright. First things first, are you alright?”

“I … no. I’m confused and hurt and I have no idea what to do.”

There’s a pause in the conversation. Kara stays quiet. She is more than familiar with Lucy’s way to process things, it sometimes takes a little time.

“Do you want a relationship with Cat Grant?”

The question is soft and quiet. Kara knows it’s because Lucy already knows the answer. Everyone does. She does too, even if she refuses to admit it. Which is exactly why Lucy asked, Kara realizes.

“I … yes.”

It’s deafening, and scary. Yes, she does want a relationship with Cat Grant, CEO of a worldwide media conglomerate, mother of a twelve-year-old boy, and apparently terrible at communication. As crazy as it sounds, she’s not ready to let it go, even though she thought she was fine with it ending before it even began.

She wants to keep making Cat blush whenever she compliments her and actually see it, not just through a screen. She wants to hear Cat’s laugh again and feel it vibrate against her own skin. She wants to kiss her, to hold her, to know how it feel to fall asleep next to her, she wants to know if Cat’s a cuddler, what kind of drunk she becomes, she wants to be able to talk about the future with her, and not just to know when the next phone call, the next skype session will happen. She wants it all, despite the distance, the hurt she’s already been through and the fact Cat is still the boss of an extremely demanding company, located an ocean away from where she lives.

“But Luce …”

“No no no. No buts. I’ve heard enough buts when it comes to you. There is always a but, Kara, in every situation, in every relationship, you can always make excuses for anything and everything. She came to you. She crossed the ocean to come talk to you. What did she tell you about her sudden silence, did she explain herself?”

Kara reluctantly tells Lucy everything Cat has told her.

“See, she’s making an effort. Sure, she’s a little late and it’s certainly convenient that you gave her son your current address, but I think she’ll have managed without it anyway. Sounds to me like she’s … trying. She’s reaching out.” Lucy’s tone is firm but calm. She’s not patronizing her, which makes Kara feel grateful. “I know you’re hurt and you have every right to be but if you really want a relationship with her … maybe you should start meeting her halfway.”

Kara mulls the words over. She knows Lucy is the voice of reason, but she’s too emotional to use any kind of logic here. Cat’s dangerous. She’s the sun and Kara is Icarus, flying way too close and risking her wings.

“I don’t know …”

“What is the worst that could happen here? You try and it doesn’t work? Yeah sure, it’s gonna hurt. IF, and I stress, if it ends,” Lucy states and Kara can’t object to anything, because her best friend does have a point. “What if it doesn’t end? You can’t run away every time someone gets a little closer to your heart. Cat made a mistake, or a few, sure. You probably made some as well, who knows? You both need to talk about it. If you don’t like what she has to say, then you call it a day and you send her back to her side of the world, but at least hear her out before, and maybe give her a chance?”

“I think I prefer Alex’s righteous anger to your absolutely perfect logic, here,” Kara grumbles but it doesn’t have any heart to it.

“Nah, you don’t. You love me because my option might lead to you being happy with Cat. Alex probably suggested to kick her out without a word, and deep down … you know you don’t want that.”

“You’re infuriating,” Kara points out but she’s smiling. Luce chuckles.

“Go get your girl, Kara. Text me or call me if you need me.”

“Thank you. I love you,” Kara says, already making her way back to the house.

\---

“So, what did they say?”

Cat is outside, bathing in the sun at the end of the pool when Kara comes back from the beach.

“They?” Kara arches a brow, walking along the water to come sit on the sunbath next to Cat’s.

“Come on. I know you called your sister and your best friend, at least,” Cat retorts, without looking up from the latest issue of Vogue she’s reading.

“I heard two points of views, yes. They diverge a lot, to say the least.”

“Alex probably just told you to tell me to fuck off and go back to wherever I came from,” Cat nods and even though she still doesn’t glance up, Kara sees the way she clenches her teeth, the slight tremble of her finger around the glazed paper, the imperceptible crack in her voice. “I’m more curious as to what Lucy told you.”

“Alex did tell me exactly that, yes,” Kara smirks and lies down next to Cat. She waits a few seconds before adding “Luce didn’t, though. She said … she said I should at least hear you out, and maybe give you a chance if I feel like you deserve one.”

“Oh,” Cat whispers and Kara can tell she’s surprised.

“The lawyer in her, probably. It’s all about both parts, hearing everyone out and then deciding … She’s very helpful, whenever I have a dilemma,” Kara keeps going, conversationally. She’s amused when Cat doesn’t interrupt. “I don’t know what to think, though. You’re here. I have to be honest, it’s throwing me off balance and it makes me angry, but she’s right when she says it’s already … something. I don’t know. A step in the right direction, maybe?”

Cat eventually does look up from her magazine, but her huge sunglasses prevent Kara from reading her eyes. It’s unnerving.

“I … I hope it is?” Cat is hesitant too, despite the faint hope hidden behind her words.

“I’m not sure, yet,” Kara carefully states and she can see the corners of Cat’s mouth drop a little.

“Cat, you said you cut me out to take care of your company. You’re … you’re someone. You have a whole company bearing your name, spread all around the world, a few hundred thousand people depending on you … You will always have to deal with a crisis. The world is nothing but a never ending string of crises, after all, and you’re the one to report them all, which causes your company to have its own lot of fires to extinguish …What I’m saying is, you’re always going to put your company first. I mean, no. Carter comes first, I know that, but I won’t ever be second.”

The faint murmur of the waves moving on the beach and the feeling of the sunbeam on her skin calm her, but she still feels sad. Cat’s presence makes her feel lonely. It’s a paradox, she’s well aware. It stings to see Cat, to hear her voice, to stand next to her and to know there can’t be anything between them.

“You don’t think I’ve thought about this already?”

Kara wants to snap back, almost physically recoiling under the almost condescending tone, but Cat is already talking again.

“My job, my company, the hours I do … It cost me three marriages already. Well, one could argue that tying the knot with a closeted gay man and a compulsive cheater would end a marriage anyway but my position as the CEO of a very demanding company certainly never helped.” Cat’s hand flourish is so typical it almost makes Kara smile. She didn’t know about the first husband, but she has heard quite a lot about the second one.

“The third … well. Carter’s father wasn’t perfect, not even close, but he was there. I wasn’t. He used to joke at first, about the cliché reversal. Eventually though, the jokes turned into accusations and then resentment, until he finally asked for a divorce and honesty, I can’t even blame him.” Cat takes a breath and steels herself.

“This job, I love it. CatCo is my biggest accomplishment and I will forever take care of it, but I am tired of being so lonely because of it. I won’t lie, I’ll never sell my company and I won’t even stop being the CEO. I honestly worked too hard to just give it up. What I can do is delegate. I can … take a more figurative role, hire a COO that I can rely on and find a real balance between my work life and my personal life.”

Kara can’t see through Cat’s sunglasses, but she’s hyper aware of Cat’s eyes on her, studying her reactions.

“I saw a glimpse of the kind of life I want, when we had dinner at your place. It was … easy, casual, domestic even. I want to come home early to someone who will make dinner with me, with whom I can talk about my day, go out on a date, spend the weekend or … I want someone who will come with me to those boring corporate events and make them seem a little less like torture, someone I will be proud of. I … it might be too soon, you’re so young but I want someone who will come with me to all those parents-teachers conferences, who will come cheer Carter up with me at the science fair and whatever other activities he chooses to be involved in. He … You pointed it out yourself, he is the most important person in my life and that is never going to change.”

Cat stops talking and takes another deep breath.

“I’ve thought about this, long and hard, before coming here. Believe it or not, I didn’t want to show up without a plan, because I very much intend to win you over and I just need you to … let me try, at the very least.”

There’s a headache building above Kara’s eyes. She doesn’t know if she should blame it on Cat’s monologue, on the vodka she’s had or the sunlight blinding her, or all of the above. Or maybe it’s the feelings, too strong to be dealt with. It sure as hell doesn’t help.

“That’s … There’s a lot to process here, Cat,” Kara eventually breaks the uncomfortable silence that stretches in between them. She’s aware it’s not what Cat wants to hear, but she doesn’t know what to say. “Listen, I’m not saying no, but I’m not saying yes either. This is a … maybe.”

Kara pulls herself up and massages the space between her brows, above her nose. The migraine will be big, she can already feel it.

“Listen. I need to go lay down, my head is starting to hurt, but there’s a few bedrooms upstairs. Pick one, make yourself at home and we’ll talk later, okay?”

Cat opens her mouth and Kara sends a silent prayer to a God she doesn’t believe in that it is not a protest. It’s not, and she sighs with relief when she hears the question.

“Which one is yours?”

“Don’t worry about me, I sleep downstairs. I’m going to go now, we’ll talk when I emerge.”

Cat doesn’t say anything and Kara simply walks away without looking back.

\---

“You didn’t have to cook, you know …”

“I know, but I had to do something to keep myself occupied and the big kitchen with the ocean view was too tempting,” Cat replies, putting down a plate of shrimps on the table.

“Did you deplenish my entire fridge?”

“Basically, yes” Cat smirks and Kara only shakes her head.

They’re outside on the porch, facing the ocean beyond the pool.  
The sun is quietly lowering on the horizon and everything sparkles with golden nuances. The water surrounding them is nothing but liquid gold and silver waves, it’s peaceful.

Kara spent almost the whole day in her room, avoiding the sunlight and the heat, only re-emerging around 8pm to find that Cat had been cooking for the better part of the day.  
She didn’t say anything, simply going on to set the table outside and picking up a bottle of Rosé for them to enjoy with their diner. She just didn’t know there would be so much food involved, it’s as impressive as it is a bit indecent.

“Which means I’ll have to go do some grocery shopping tomorrow …” Kara sighs, but it’s not accusatory. Cat sits down in front of her and grabs her glass, making the beverage swirl in it as she looks away from Kara.

“I don’t want to talk about … about our situation. We will talk about it, don’t get me wrong, just … not tonight.” Kara says and Cat simply nods, silently agreeing. After that, Kara relaxes a little and enjoys the view.

“Why here?”

Cat’s voice brings Kara back to the present and she focuses on the question.

“Well … a lot of reasons, but none of them actually explain why I came here,” Kara starts and she chuckles. It doesn’t exactly make sense. “You have to understand, I’m not exactly a stranger around here.”

Cat arches a surprised brow and then frowns. She’s staring and the hazel of her eyes, lost in all the golden surrounding them, seems to sparkle even stronger than it usually does. It’s fascinating.

“I told you about the first time I fell in love with Paris, then with a girl living there. We stayed together for about two years and then we broke up. Well, she cheated on me and I dumped her when I discovered the truth, to be accurate,” Kara chuckles at Cat’s outraged look. “Anyway, I was twenty one, about to turn twenty two, and I needed to escape Paris. I hitched a ride with a friend all the way down to the south of France but it didn’t feel far enough. I rented a sailing boat and left Marseille on a whim, traveled around the sea for a while until I reached the Cyclades. Don’t get me wrong, those islands are absolutely gorgeous and all but seriously overcrowded. I wanted solitude, so I kept sailing. I eventually came across this little gem. No cars, practically no tourists, only two or three ferries a day from Athens …”

Cat’s intently listening, barely sipping at her wine as she seems to drink Kara’s words instead.

“I settled here, renting a small but really comfortable apartment in one of the higher houses of the village, with a pretty cool view too. It was too far away from the water, but you know, still good. I stayed for two months, learned to speak a bit of Greek, made some friends … I even made some money by offering to give sailing tours during the day …” Kara trails off, reminiscing. It takes a few minutes before she finishes her story.

“I don’t come here every summer, I prefer to discover new places but ... it’s a good place to come to when you want some peace and quiet. Now that I have more money, I can afford to rent bigger places, and I usually ask some friends to join me. Alex and Lucy are supposed to come over in two or three weeks, if my sister manages to escape whatever mission she’s currently working on.”

Kara shrugs and starts to help herself to some of the dishes spread on the table. She’s hungry and despite the indecent amount, all of the food looks really good. She’s munching on a shrimp when Cat speaks.

“How come you love the water so much? I’ve seen the painting in your apartment, the one you gave to Carter … I’ve also read some of your books and there’s always some reference to the water, at some point.”

Kara carefully swallows before glancing up to meet Cat’s eyes. The question is legit and innocent, she has no idea how heavy the answer is. Kara doesn’t know if she can trust her with this side of her, with her past.

“It’s … a long story, one I might tell you one day, but not today,” Kara replies with a small smile. Cat nods and doesn’t push, despite the obvious curiosity in her eyes.  
She’s trying, Kara can tell. She wants to get to know Kara for real and it’s nice, but oh so dangerous. Kara doesn’t know if she can do it, put herself back out there, start something new again, with someone like Cat Grant. There are just too many obstacles ahead, yet somehow she finds herself caving a little.

“I … I do have a very specific relationship with the sea, the ocean. I basically grew up on a beach and I probably knew how to swim before I could even walk. It’s … it’s soothing. The sound of the waves, the salt in the air, the stickiness on the skin, the tangling breeze in the hair … And the storms. It simply feels like home and I just, I relate to it a lot.”

Cat’s eyes are gleaming with gratefulness and it makes Kara’s heart flutter a little.

“Yet, you live in Paris,” Cat eventually points out and it’s light, teasing even. It comes out a total surprise and Kara can’t help but laugh.

Maybe she can try, too, she thinks as she sees the happy smile that floats on Cat’s lips.

\---

“You can’t be serious,” Cat balks, obviously appalled.

“Deadly so,” Kara retorts, staring down at the mighty CEO.

“No,” Cat flat-out refuses and Kara sighs with annoyance.

“It’s either that or you can climb back up to the house on foot. With your ridiculous shoes and the way you chose to dress this morning, it’s probably out of question,” Kara states, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I will not climb up on the back of a fucking donkey,” Cat shakes her head, standing her ground and throwing a murderous glare at the animal in question. The donkey doesn’t seem to care, munching on a handful of hay while waiting for them to be ready to go.

“You know, it is entirely your fault we had to come to the village to refill the fridge you emptied in one single dinner yesterday,” Kara grumbles, and she then realizes she has replaced the donkey as the receiver of Cat’s withering glare. She returns it without blinking, standing her ground and waiting for Cat to cave.

“There must be another option,” Cat states, but Kara shakes her head.

“There isn’t and if you don’t hurry, the yogurts, the butter and all the fresh stuff are gonna be soiled by the time we get there.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Cat mumbles. Kara rolls her eyes and turns around to finish tying the bags to another donkey.

“You didn’t have to come with me, you know,” Kara points out but it only seems to hurt Cat, her face falls a little. Kara doesn’t know why she rushes to fix it. “I mean. I’m glad you did, I should have warned you about the donkeys though …”

“Yes, you should have,” Cat grumbles. She stares at the animal and then sighs, loudly, resigning herself to her fate. “Alright, how do I mount this, like a horse?”

Kara turns around and throws her a surprised look, hoping to hide the slight blush that tints her ears at the probably unnoticed innuendo.

“You know how to ride a horse?”

Well, that’s not much better and the heat on her ears is now spreading on her cheeks, rising from her throat. The smirk on Cat’s lips tells her exactly how busted she is.

“I went to a very fancy English boarding school, yes. Although we were riding stallions with a pedigree there, not … donkeys,” Cat mumbles the last word with such disdain it makes Kara laugh. It’s ridiculous how put-out Cat seems to be, sometimes.

“Same thing yes, come on. I’ll help you.”

Minutes later, Cat and Kara are riding side by side while a few donkeys follow them, all loaded with bags of groceries.

“If you ever tell anyone about this, I will murder you in your sleep,” Cat threatens, deadly serious.

“Too late. I’ve already sent a few pictures to my sister and my best friend,” Kara retorts with an amused smirk and the look of pure horror that crosses Cat faces is worth it. It makes her laugh, before she adds.

“Wait until I send some to Carter, you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Oh gosh, please don’t,” Cat mutters, closing her eyes behind her sunglasses.

“Behave, and maybe I won’t,” Kara sasses. Cat huffes but doesn’t reply.

\---

When Cat gets out of the shower is when she finally hears the music. It seems to echo all around her, entering through the open bay windows that let a salted breeze in and through the bedroom door she forgot to close.

She’s chosen the biggest bedroom available, but it’s a coincidence, because she’s only there for the view. Two of the walls are made of glass. One is overlooking the pool and ocean, a replica from the view from the living room but with a higher angle that allows her to actually see the pier and the boat. The other is oriented to the garden on the right of the house, showing all the trees, the green grass and bushes and the rest of the ocean surrounding the island, as well as the hills of rock of the inside land. The king size bed is facing the garden view but when Cat wakes up, the first thing she sees is the ocean. It’s pushed against a pan of stone wall that seems to emerge from the middle of the room and behind which the bathroom is located, all smooth concrete and white faïence and with a bathtub that is indecently comfortable. From it, she can also see the ocean.

She wraps herself in a towel and moves to return to the bedroom part of the room. The music is soft and slow, Cat doesn’t recognize the melody, but she’s dying to see Kara play. She chooses a pair of casual denim shorts, completed by a simple white blouse. She doesn’t bother with shoes before making her way downstairs.

As she steps around the angle in the stairs, Kara comes into view and Cat stops, her mind going blank and her heart missing a few beats.

The living room is bathing in that golden hour halo that makes everything look brighter and warmer, the white tones becoming orange and the black turning liquid. The piano looks as alive as the ocean behind it and with the music echoing around the place, the vision is ethereal.

Kara’s sitting at the piano stool, her hair loose around her face and with her hair closed but she’s smiling. The sunlight is making her pale skin glow and she’s otherworldly. Cat can only stare. Kara’s clad in a pair of denim shorts, her bare legs tucked under the piano and her feet playing with the pedals, it’s all muscled calves and toned thighs. A navy bikini top is covering her breasts and her arms flex every time she moves them to hit the right notes, fingers running across the black and white ivory keys.

Cat eventually remembers she has to breathe and so she does, her lungs burning from the lack of air. She comes down as quietly as she can, mentally congratulating herself for forgoing the shoes, and comes to sit on one of the couches.

“Do you recognize the song?”

She almost jumps out of her skin when Kara’s voice breaks the silence. Kara still has her eyes closed. Cat thought she has been discreet enough, but apparently not at all.

“I don’t,” she softly replies, reluctant to speak while Kara plays.

The smile on Kara’s lips becomes somehow tender and affectionate. She stops playing and Cat almost protests, but Kara’s already starting from the beginning.

Only this time, she sings. Her voice is crystal clear and lined with emotions, Cat simply loses her ability to breathe once again.

 _“I've never felt this strong_  
_I am invincible, how could this go wrong_  
_No, here, here's where we belong_  
_I see a road ahead_  
_I never thought I would dare to tread_ ”

Cat doesn’t recognize the lyrics but the air sounds familiar and it takes another verse for her to replace it.

 _“Like an image passing by, my love, my life_  
_In the mirror of your eyes, my love, my life_  
_I can see it all so clearly_  
_All I love so dearly”_

It’s an Abba song but Cat knows Kara isn’t singing the right words. It’s softer and happier than the original version, but with something of a melancholy echo to it.

 _“Images passing by_  
_Like reflections of your mind, my love, my life_  
_Are the words I try to find, my love, my life_  
_But I know I don't possess you_  
_With all my heart, God bless you_  
_You will be my love and my life_  
_You're my one and only_ ”

There’s more to the song, Cat can tell, but Kara stops anyway. She opens her eyes and Cat gets lost in the sparkling shades of blue, drowning in them like a castaway.

“It’s from the movie Mamma Mia! Here we go again, they adapted this particular Abba song to fit the plot.”

“The lyrics are … beautiful, but strangely nostalgic. What is the song about, in the movie?”

“I’m not telling you. You’ll have to watch it,” Kara smirks and Cat rolls her eyes, biting the inside of her cheeks to prevent herself from smiling. It’s lighter, easier, this banter between them. Ever since the donkey episode, they’ve been teasing each other and joking around, carefree.

“Would you sing something else to me?” Cat tentatively asks and Kara tilts her head. It takes a little while but eventually, she nods and looks down at the piano.

“Well … Since I’m already in the Abba mood … Might as well try this one,” Kara whispers, seemingly to herself. Her hair falls down before her face and hides her eyes away behind a curtain of messy golden locks. Cat almost mourns the loss of contact but she stays silent.

The first notes fly out into the living room and Cat instantly tenses. She is nowhere near ready to hear Kara voice the lyrics, but she doesn’t have the time to brace herself. She only notices the smirk on Kara’s lips a second before she starts singing.

_“Take it easy with me, please  
Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze …”_

Oh, this is so not helping, Cat thinks.  
All of a sudden, there’s something heavy and light at once in the air, swirling along the music, electrifying the atmosphere. It’s like the whole balance of the world shifted, bending under the power of Kara’s voice. Maybe it’s the lowering sunlight, maybe it’s the way Kara’s fingers run along the keys, maybe it’s the defying edge in those intent blue eyes, but Cat’s skin tingles. She finds herself desperately hoping. She doesn’t know what for but she’s on the edge of the couch, waiting for something to happen.

 _“Take your time, make it slow_  
_Andante, Andante_  
_Just let the feeling grow_ ”

Kara keeps singing and it’s so soft. She doesn’t force the words out as much as she lets them slip past her lips, like gentle breaths meant to be captured and oh, Cat longs to do just that.

 _“Make your fingers soft and light_  
_Let your body be the velvet of the night_  
_Touch my soul, you know how …”_

Cat swallows, hard. The blue hues in Kara’s gleaming eyes are fascinating and so terribly tempting. The ocean might be out there around the whole island but to Cat, it seems like it’s trapped within Kara’s irises, coming and going with waves of emotions.

_“Andante, Andante  
Go slowly with me now”_

The images induced by the song, the words, the way Kara’s voice seems to endlessly soften, are uncomfortably arousing. It’s all smooth skin, toned muscles, white sheets and indecents moans, it’s a power play where they’re both winning and losing at once. She presses her thighs together and closes her eyes, but it only makes everything worse, because now she can’t focus on anything but the fantasies.

 _“I'm your music_  
_I'm your song_  
_Play me time and time again and make me strong_  
_Make me sing, make me sound_ ”

Cat knows the song. There should be a chorus in between the lines but Kara’s stripped version is even better. She’s hyper aware of each keystroke, can almost predict every single move of Kara’s fingers across the piano, can sense the subtle variations in the tone and it’s driving her crazy. All she can see, behind her tightly closed eyelids, are Kara’s hands on her skin, playing her time and time again. Only in her mind, the sounds they produce are extremely different from the melody echoing around her.

 _“Andante, Andante_  
_Tread lightly on my ground_  
_Andante, Andante_  
_Oh please don't let me down_ ”

She shoots up and starts to wander around aimlessly, because she just can’t stay on the couch. Kara’s voice has a pull, so strong it’s defying gravity itself, and she doesn’t know how to resist. It’s terrifying and enthralling at once. She finds herself standing at the end of the piano and bends over slightly, putting her elbows up on the black wood and leaning her chin into one of her palms. She stares, because there’s nothing else to do.  
Kara’s unavoidable. She’s everywhere around the room, filling the space and claiming it as hers.

 _“There's a shimmer in your eyes_  
_Like the feeling of a thousand butterflies_  
_Please don't talk, go on, play_  
_Andante, Andante_  
_And let me float away_ ”

She doesn’t know how long she can stay away. The pull in Kara’s voice is getting stronger and stronger with every single word she sings and while she had never really paid any attention to this particular Abba song, she was now very interested in the lyrics. It’s uncanny, how fitting they are for their current situation. Kara knows it, the gleam in her insanely blue eyes is telling and the shadow of her smirk is too. She’s purposely toying with Cat.

So when Kara entons the refrain again, Cat moves. She steps away from the piano to walk around it and she doesn’t stop until she’s standing next to Kara, who didn’t stop playing. Her hands are still running across the notes but she raised her chin, defiantly looking into Cat’s eyes.

For a moment, a tiny fraction of second, it seems like the world stops altogether. Suddenly, it’s silence and stillness, nothing moves.  
In the back of her mind, Cat knows that it’s an illusion, but she’s lost into the endlessly moving shade of blues of Kara’s irises. It’s a whole galaxy, myriads of stars flowing through it like the waves over the ocean outside. It’s dark and yet so luminous, tempting and yet almost shy, it’s defiant but pleading at once and Cat can see so clearly, that edge on which she is standing.  
She doesn’t know how to fight anymore, because Kara is everything she has ever wanted and it’s terrifying, to be so far gone for someone so young, so new, so unknown too. It’s scary, to already be thinking about growing old alongside this woman who seems to live her life by her own rules, so freely. It’s exactly what she had ran away from for so long. But Kara’s here, still looking right at her and with just one step, she could fall from that cliff.

So she does.

She bends forward and crashes her lips onto Kara, already reaching with her both of her hands to hold her. It’s not soft, it’s not even gracious, it’s hungry and messy and a little brusque but oh.

**Oh.**

She wasn’t expecting such a strong taste. It’s a subtle blending of vodka, lime and something earthy, it’s surprising but also addictive and when she gets an answer to her kiss, she happily sinks into it. The music stops, rather abruptly, and the silence that follows is jarring. Cat doesn’t have time to react though, because suddenly there’s strong hands closing on her waist, pulling her close and she almost moans into the kiss. Kara’s palms are hot and firms, long fingers curling around her skin and it burns, it tingles and her whole body already aches for more.

A tongue brushes her lips and she partens them, desperate to know what it’s like to be thoroughly kissed by Kara. She has been dreaming about that moment ever since she left Kara’s apartment after their dinner and there’s a part of her, the always pessimistic side of her brain, that is scared of being disappointed.  
In her mind, Kara was rather hesitant, soft, shyly tempting. Maybe it’s because of the age, maybe it’s because of the obvious gap in their knowledge of each other but faced with the actual kiss, she absentmindedly realizes how wrong she has been.  
Reality exceeds, explodes even, her expectations.

Kara is driven and sure, playful even. She dives into the kiss, relentlessly so, and Cat can only try to keep up. She doesn’t even register that they’re moving until she suddenly can’t feel the ground under her feet anymore. Kara effortlessly puts her up on the piano and when she instantly moves to insert herself in between her legs, Cat trembles. One of her hands instantly shots up to tangle itself into Kara’s surprisingly soft hair and the other goes behind her back, digging sharp fingernails into warm, naked skin. She bites into Kara’s lower lips, swallowing back the indecent moan that threatened to escape at the feeling of Kara’s epiderm under her the tip of her fingers.

Hands fall onto her thighs and this time, she can’t help it. She moans and squirms. Kara’s fingers are already trailing lines and circles across her skin and it’s too much and not enough at once. She’s so close, playing right under the hem of her shorts and yet so far away from where Cat wants her, needs her, it’s torture. She’s lost in the feeling of Kara’s hands on her, the scent of lime and wind that clings to her hair and the way she feels her body twists and shifts restlessly. She doesn’t know where’s the ground and where’s the sky and all she can hear is the loud drumming of her own heart. She’s rising and falling at once.

Kara’s mouth suddenly leaves her. The loss is abrupt, so much that Cat moves forward to try to recapture it. She doesn’t need to, because lips are already nipping at her pulsing point, on the side of her throat and oh god. How did Kara even know it’s one of her most sensitive zone, she has no idea but it works. Teeth gently scrape her skin and she shudders, digging deeper into Kara’s back and reaching out with her legs to cross her ankles behind Kara’s knees, keeping her close. She’s absolutely certain that if Kara stops, she’s going to die. She needs it, everything it is Kara’s doing and promising, offering. She wants it, more than she has ever wanted anything in her life.

“Oh God please don’t stop.”

The words come tumbling from her mouth, hoarse and strangled. She lets her head fall backward a little, offering her neck to Kara’s voracious mouth while keeping her hand in the woman’s golden hair. A chuckle answers her plea but Kara doesn’t stop. There’s a cool sensation on her skin when Kara’s hands move away and she’s tempted to catch them, to bring them back but then she feels a pressure against the small of her back. It makes her slide forward on the piano and she finds herself being flushed against Kara’s almost bare front. She doesn’t have the time to register the move because there’s abs rolling against her soaked wet core and it makes her whimper, audibly so. She shudders and then swears, loudly. Her whole body arches against Kara’s, seeking the pressure and her hips are already grinding.

It doesn’t last and when Kara takes one step back, the loss is almost unbearable. Before she knows it though, Kara’s hands are back on her thighs and they push, spreading her a little wider. Cat doesn’t even resist. She can’t. She’s utterly powerless. Kara’s hands, Kara’s smell, the evident lust and hunger behind her every move, the thoroughness of her mouth, her lips, her teeth and tongue, the muscle tensing everywhere in her body, she’s drowning in it all.

She groans and lets out another loud “Fuck” when Kara unbutton her shorts and gets rid of it in one single move. Her white blouse follows suit and then next, she’s only wearing matching white underwears, still perched atop the black piano. Kara’s looking at her with wide-eyes but the blue hues are dark, so incredibly somber. There’s arousal, desire, hunger, anger and want in there, so much want it makes Cat squirm. She’s burning with impatience and need but the way Kara is looking at her is thrilling and fascinating, she feels invincible and on top of the world, yet so vulnerable.  
She shallows, thickly, and then reaches her hands towards Kara. She can’t stand the distance, however small, in between then.

Kara doesn’t hesitate. She comes back between Cat’s legs and this time, the contact is skin against skin and Cat lets out a strangled cry. Cat places her hands on Kara’s shoulders and holds onto it for dear life while Kara’s lips crash onto hers again, blunt and demanding, already claiming entrance. She gasps into the kiss when her bra suddenly gets loose around her breasts. Kara gets rid of it without even breaking away and Cat digs her fingernails into the muscles of Kara’s broad shoulders. She’s the one to interrupt the kiss to swear again when Kara’s palms closes around her breasts, thumbs already flicking at her nipples. She raises a hand up and curls her finger around the back of Kara’s neck, bringing her back for a kiss that reverberates across her whole body, making her toes curl. Kara smirks against her lips and Cat bites her, hard enough to hurt. It elicits a gasp and Cat’s now the one to smile.

“What am I going to do with you?” Kara whispers against her mouth. She sounds amused and fond but her breath is coming out raggedly, eyes dark with lust. She’s a vision and Cat doesn’t even think before answering.

“Everything, I hope.”

The smile that slowly forms on Kara’s lips is blinding, intense, full of sunlight and hope. It’s wide and yet so lascivious, Cat surges forward to kiss it. It doesn’t last because the next thing she knows, Kara’s mouth closes on her left breast and she lets out a loud, incent moan. Kara’s tongue is swirling around her nipple and Cat almost cries out loud, her body arching into Kara’s touch, desperately seeking contact, needing so much more. She shuts her eyes while trying to regain some shred of control, but she knows it’s vain. The throbbing in between her legs is becoming painful and her soaked wet panties are sticky with need.

“Kara, please.” The plea breaks the silence and it’s loud, but she doesn’t even care. She can’t take it anymore, she’s going crazy and she needs a release.

Suddenly, Kara’s nowhere to be felt. Cat almost sobs at the unexpected loss, already missing the warm hands, the defiant fingers, the sinfully skilled mouth and the daring teeth, desperately craving the contact of Kara’s skin against her own. She opens her eyes to protest but the sight she’s faced with takes her breath away, any last coherent thoughts leaving out by the window.

Kara’s up on her knees on the floor, with her face in between Cat’s legs and she’s looking up at Cat with a question in her eyes. It takes a second for Cat to realize Kara’s asking for permission and it makes her heart swell with feelings she’s too scared to name. She’s had her fair share of lovers throughout the years, some of them she even married, but no one ever looked at her quite like Kara is now, as if she is the only thing that makes sense in the world, as if nothing wrong can ever happen again, as if she’s the answer to everything.

She swallows thickly and reaches down a hand to stroke Kara’s cheek. It’s incredibly soft, almost out of place in the evident sexual tension filling the air around them, but Cat doesn’t even care. She only wants Kara to know she’s there, she’s all in it.

It seems to be enough, because Kara moves closer to Cat’s center and when a hot breath lands on her drenched wet white underwear, she shudders and whimpers. She scots closer to the edge of the piano but Kara’s hands come to hold her tights, keeping her in place. Cat groans in protest but then Kara’s fingers pull at her panties and she’s all too happy to help get rid of them.

She cries out loud at the first contact of Kara’s tongue onto her center, firm and sure.

“Oh GOD, yes! Please!”

Cat’s head falls backward and she has to jerk her hands behind her to avoid crumbling onto the piano. She spreads her palms and weight on it while Kara slowly but relentlessly unravels her. There’s soft but adventurous lips sucking, teeth nibbling with just enough force to be deliciously exhilarating and then a tongue, skilled beyond belief, exploring every inch of her sex and making her lose her mind. She moans and swears and her hips jerk forward anytime Kara’s hands release their hold. At some point, Kara’s tongue dips into her core and Cat’s arms give out. She falls flat onto the piano, already begging for Kara to keep going, her body arching and thrashing around, covered in sweat as she desperately try to find something to hold on. Eventually, she raises her hands and grips onto the opposite edge of the piano while more ragged pleas and incoherent suppliques come tumbling from her mouth.

All it takes is another well placed stroke of Kara’s tongue. She comes hard, trembling and shuddering, her shoulder blades planted into the wood and her body arching into Kara’s mouth, Kara’s name on her lips, loud and raw.

Kara applies a soft kiss onto her inner right thigh and the innocent contact is enough to make her tremble. Then, Cat feels warm hands around her waist, pulling her up. Cat looks up and despite having just come back from her orgasm, she feels incredibly aroused all over again. Kara’s chin is glistening with her own wetness and she’s licking her lips, an appreciative smile etched onto it.

Cat closes the distance and kisses her, hard. She tastes herself into Kara’s mouth and it makes her moan. It’s salty and strong but mixed with the faintest remnant of vodka, it’s almost intoxicating.

“Come on,” Kara whispers against her lips after the kiss, already pulling Cat closer to help her down. She doesn’t even know if she’s at all able to stand, let alone to walk, but Kara’s arms around her are strong and steady and she relies on it.

Kara picks up Cat’s blouse and drapes it around her silhouette with a soft smile.

“Where are you going?” Cat asks when she feels Kara step away, her heart dropping in her chest. She’s can’t help but feeling suddenly very insecure about it all. Doubts resurface and take over the pleasant thrumming in her body, clouding her mind with questions she’s too afraid to voice.

“I’m going to make us dinner, because while I just ate dessert, you might want to eat something. I have a feeling you will need all the strength you can gather,” Kara retorts with a playful smirk and a wink.

And just like that, Kara eases all of Cat’s anxieties and makes the butterflies in her stomach flutter. She chuckles and eagerly follows Kara into the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there!
> 
> After Spring, let's have a cool summer. Since it got away from me, length wise, I decided to split this season in two parts. The first part, is the angst/smutty part. The second will be more fluffy, with some bit of angst because let's be honest, it's what I do best. I'm having fun with this little thing here, I hope you enjoy it! Oh and, don't blame me for the Mamma Mia! references, it was just too good to pass on it. Loveya!
> 
> You can also see a moodboard on my tumblr for this chapter, courtesy of the awesome @Racheltuckerrr.
> 
> _As always, reviews are welcome_  
> 


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